Two Weeks
by Rointheta
Summary: Rose and the Doctor wake up in a prison cell and realise they've swapped bodies.
1. Swap

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Doctor Who.  
This is unbetad, so all mistakes are my own.

* * *

"Grafflon!" The Doctor exclaims, holding out his arms and looking very pleased with himself as they walk down a street in a busy market place. "Lovely, peaceful city on Ulvuria, one of the greatest planets in the Pulquozian system. And," he says, leaning in closer to Rose, "their apple pie is to die for."

"Really? Apple pie, huh? Are those proper apples, then, or some weird alien equivalent?"

"No, no. Proper apples. Well, what you humans call apples, anyway. You know, on Lipsitch apples mean something else entirely." He makes a strange, amused noise, waggling his eyebrows. "Anywaaay, Poppy Tomlin, famous 25th century explorer, brought a sack of Jonagolds to Grafflon a few centuries ago as a gift to the King for saving her life. Well, she really saved his first. There was this big thing with humans not being very accepted back then and she was to be executed for merely setting foot on this planet. The King had just sentenced her to death when he started choking on something and she did the Heimlich maneuver! They hadn't even heard of it here before that. So, he rose above his prejudices and pardoned her. That, in turn, paved way for humans to be allowed planetside and she brought him apples as thanks."

"Really? Apples?"

"Oh, yes. Apples might be ordinary to you, Rose Tyler, but to an Ulvurian at that time it was worth more than the Koh-i-Noor."

"How about them apples, huh? Huh?" she says, grinning and nudging him in the side with her elbow.

He beams at her. "Ha! Anyway, the King founded the first apple orchard on this planet, even named it after her, and today there is one in every county! Imagine that, hm? What a little space exploration can do. Well, that and human compassion! Brilliant! So…yes! Proper apples. The custard, though… You might want to stay away from that."

"Do I dare ask why?"

"Let's just say they extract vanilla from something a bit unconventional and leave it at that."

Her eyes widen as her imagination runs amok. "Okay…"

"Ooh, there's a stall coming up! Hope your tummy is in the mood!" he says and pats her belly.

She blinks at him in surprise and he quickly pulls his hand away and grabs hers instead, tugging her with him as he runs down the street. The fly past vendors shouting the names and prices of a wide variety of goods at them, not stopping until the scent of fresh-baked pie hits their noses. Rose's mouth is watering as they queue but, as they are about to order, the Doctor notices there are no apple pies on the menu. He scratches his sideburn, thinking for a moment, but then shrugs and orders two slices of some-sort-of-berry pie with whipped cream—produced by creatures not very unlike Earth cows—and pays with his credit stick. The periwinkle coloured, two-nosed vendor eyes them curiously, but puts the dessert on paper napkins and hands them directly to the Doctor and Rose.

They head towards a park, keeping a leisurely pace, but the heat of the red sun makes the dollops of cream melt and trickle down their fingers, so they exchange grins and glances and then run the rest of the way. Rose is in desperate need of some shade and chooses a bench placed beneath an enormous tree and they take their seats and make themselves comfortable, sinking their teeth into the warm slices of pie and enjoying the lovely view of a creek running through the park.

"Oh, god, it's gorgeous," she says, mouth full of pie. She swallows and then licks off a trail of cream from her wrist to the tip of her thumb before taking another large bite.

"Eer," he replies, eyes somewhat glazed over.

"What?"

He clears his throat. "Weeelll…" he trails off and furrows his brow, gaze sharp as he looks somewhere over her shoulder. "Ah. Oops."

"What?"

"Run!"

He shoves the rest of his pie into his mouth with one hand and firmly grabs her wrist with the other, pulling her with him as he runs. Her treat falls to the ground and birds flock instantly, pecking at the crust and the filling.

"Why are we running?" she asks, stumbling behind him.

"Well, I might have gotten the date wrong," he calls over his shoulder. "There are guards coming our way, looking very, er, grabby."

She chortles. "Oh, how unusual. What's it this time, then?"

"You're human."

"So? Didn't Polly What's-her-face fix that?"

"Poppy Tomlin. And I might have, sort of, landed us a few centuries before that happened. Completely by mistake, of course," he says and she rolls her eyes at him behind his back. "Humans are considered pests and, well, I'm cavorting with one so… Yes, running it is!" he says, ducking into an alley.

"_Cavorting_? We're not cavorting!"

"Oh, yes! If anyone asks we most certainly are, Rose Tyler. If they catch us, which they won't, them thinking you're my mate—the, er, shagging kind of mate—is the only thing that will keep them from killing you."

"What?!"

"Think of it like this," he says and pulls her into a narrow passage between two buildings, "you're a cockroach, stomped on on sight, but by cavorting with me you're upgraded to stray dog and go straight to the impound. Unfortunately, it works the other way around, as well."

"Oh, so by shagging the disgusting human, you're a stray dog, too?"

"Yep! They will detain us for, oh, a week—well two at the most—and, unless some higher being claims us, they will sterilise us and place us in a, well, suppose you could call it a kennel. They don't want any half-humans running about and littering the place."

"Oh, my god. The places you take me."

"Shh. I can hear them coming."

He pushes her into a wall arch and then joins her, pressing his body into hers, making sure they can't be seen by someone running past. He holds her around the waist with one arm and around her shoulders with the other, hand cradling the nape of her neck and pressing her head against his chest. The fabric of his suit jacket rasps against her cheek for every breath he takes, the drumming sound of his heartbeats fills her ear, drowning out the stomps of boots in the alley, and his spicy cardamom scent mingles with the sweet smell of pie on his breath. All she wants is to burrow her nose into him and breathe in deeply, but the last thing she needs is for him to realise just how attracted she is to him.

She's so focused on not giving into her urges that it takes her several seconds to notice that her arms are wrapped around his back, fingertips nearly touching the waistband of his trousers. She's not sure when she placed them there, but she assumes it must have been out of reflex when he moved them into the wall arch and now she doesn't know what to do. Hugging isn't unusual for them, of course, but this is by far the longest and tightest embrace they've ever shared and it's really starting to affect her. Oh, it's ridiculous, really, but it's been so long since she's been with anyone at all and she can't stop her body from responding to the feel of his hipbones pressing into her and the way his fingers curl around her ribs. Heat is coiling low in her abdomen and she's panting through her mouth, tongue repeatedly darting out to moisten her lips. She wants to drift her hands down to his bum, press him closet and grind against him, rock their bodies together and… Hold on. That sounded like…

"Did you just smell me?" she hears herself say and then groans inwardly at her stupidity.

He stiffens. "Ehm…I… Shh!"

He holds her closer and she has to bite her lip not to moan, thinking really hard about maggots and slimey toads instead of how turned on she is. They wait for several minutes but then he finally releases her and steps back. She barely has time to sigh of relief before he grabs her hand and pulls her with him and they dash through back alleys and passageways, getting closer and closer to the TARDIS; however, just as they see the blue box up ahead, a net lands over them and they fall to the ground in a heap of limbs. Something sharp pricks her in the backside and she yelps at the pain and then everything turns black.

* * *

Moaning and rubbing her forehead, Rose sits up and tries her best not to vomit all over the cold floor as a wave of nausea hits her. Her vision is blurry so she blinks a few times to clear it, hoping she'll be able to take in her surroundings. Ah, she's in a cell, which isn't very unusual, and to her right lies herself, throwing up all the contents of her stomach. The tips of her blond locks dip into the puddle of sick, making the non-vomiting Rose feel more nauseated and she fights hard not to join in on the revolting activity.

The vomiting Rose turns her head and looks at her in confusion.

"Wait. What am I doing there? Oh, Rassilon!" The vomiting Rose touches her throat. "What's wrong with my voice? I sound like…" Her jaw drops. "You! I sound like _you_!"

"Well, yeah, 'course— What? Hold on," says the non-vomiting Rose and then clears her throat. "What's…" She clears her voice again. "Testing, testing, one, two—"

"Rose…" The vomiting Rose holds her hands up in a non-threatening manner. "Please don't panic from what I'm about to tell you, but we seem to have, ehm," she tugs at her ear, which looks so familiar it makes her feel all funny inside, "swapped bodies."

"Doc-doctor?" Rose's hands fly to her face, feeling the familiar features of the Time Lord beneath her fingers. "Oh, my god!" She tugs at her short, spiky hair before running her hands down her torso. "Oh, my god!" She laughs hard, clutching her stomach. "Goodness me, I'm a man!" Her eyes widen. "Oh, my god, she was _right_!"

The Doctor in Rose's body looks alarmed, cheeks tinted pink. "What? What?"

"It really _does_ feel like I'm beating out a samba!"

They look at each other for a moment and then breaks out in a fit of giggles, rolling around on the floor until the Doctor almost hits the puddle of sick. He quickly sits up with a shriek, wincing at the sound of it echoing in the cell.

He clears his throat, pulling a bit at the neckline of the top Rose's body is wearing. "Well, this voice thing will take awhile getting used to, hm?"

"That's not the only thing…" Rose shifts a little. "I can feel…" She blushes and the sensation of both hearts speeding up almost makes her stagger back.

"You can feel what?"

"Your, uhm, your…hardly used parts," she says, hissing the last word.

"Oh, well, I can feel your…" He gestures around her breasts, not meeting her eye. "They're _heavy_! You should find something with better support. How do you run with these things?"

"Doctor," she says, giving him a dribbled-on-your-shirt look to tease him. "I use my feet and leg to run, not my breasts."

He mock-glares at her. "Ha, ha! Very funny."

She shrugs. "Obviously, I manage." She crinkles her nose and points at him. "Doctor, you got vomit all over my hair.

"Eugh! Is there water in here? My eyesight is better than yours. It's too dark for me to see in here with these human eyes."

There's only one window, but it's not enough to light up all of the cell and most of it is still shrouded in darkness but, thanks to the Doctor's night vision, Rose had barely noticed until he pointed it out. Looking around, she sees a sink in one of the corners so she helps the Doctor find his way and then assists him as he quickly washes the sick out.

"Right. Now that that's done, I need to find out how long this will last or if there's anything we can do to switch back. Shouldn't be permanent. I hope." He makes a face. "Probably. Weeelll… I need to scan my system."

"Okay. Well, go ahead," she says and sits down again on the floor, back against the wall, waiting.

"No, _my_ system, Rose. I need to get inside my brain."

Her eyes grow large and round. "Oh, you'll go inside my head?"

He crawls over to her and settles beside her. "No, I will go inside _my_ head. Don't worry, I won't touch your mind. I don't know how to control this body but if I can access my brain I can override your control of it and, well…" He sighs and scratches the back of his head. "Will only work if you're slightly telepathic so I really hope you are. Can't make a connection otherwise since I'm stuck in this useless body."

"Oi!" She smacks him hard on the arm.

"Ow! That really hurt!" He rubs the spot and pouts. "You're very frail, Rose."

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Inferior little human, that's me. Now, go on. Do your thing, then."

"Okay. It will feel similar to when Cassandra was in your body. I will just push your mind aside and take control. I might access your surface memories but I honestly doubt it. As you might have noticed, whatever they did to make the swap has also erased the last few hours of our memories." He holds up his hands by her temples. "Ready?"

She nods and flutters her eyes closed as he pushes his fingers against her skin as well as his consciousness back into the body she's inhibiting. It feels a bit strange and she can tell he's mucking about in the body's system, but every sensation is too shallow and fleeting to be unpleasant.

"Hmm… Myozameen, I think… Yes! Oh, a dash of quert, too. Hm, if there's ronixum as well it must mean that… Ah," he says and then keeps murmuring very strange words to himself until he's finished and pulls out. "Well, would you look at that, Rose Tyler. Your body does have telepathic abilities! Rather strong for a human, at that." He beams at her, looking proud.

"Yeah, great. So?" She motions him to go on by waving her hand.

"Oh, right. Yes! After analysing the chemicals lingering in my, well yours, well…you know… Anyway, I can safely say that they've used a, well, sort of like a psychograft actually, but since we've swapped there's no one compressing anyone else so there's no risk of…you know." He gestures cutting his throat and makes a choking sound as his finger slips over his skin. "Anyway, it's called Ylvander, after the creator, and I've come across one before. Not quite this intimately, but I am slightly familiar with the process."

"That's good! Do you know why, though?"

"Well…" He rubs his neck. "You're not gonna like it."

"Out with it."

"It's a safety precaution. As you know we're in Grafflon and the Grafflonians consider themselves very evolved people. They're assuming that you're too much of a stupid ape to use my franky magnificent brain and that this body is too useless for me to—"

"Oi!" She smacks him hard on the same arm as before.

"Ow! What the hell did you do that for?" He covers the spot with his hand. "I'm already sore!"

"Stop calling me useless! And-and stupid ape!"

"I don't— Ugh! It's them! I was talking about them! I think you're brilliant!"

"You do?"

"Yes!"

She beams at him. "Well, then. Let's get out of here and find that machine and reverse it. I'd like my body back, thanks."

"Good plan!" He walks over to the window, pushes himself up on tiptoes and takes a peek outside. "Think this is our safest bet. It's a bit high, but we'll manage. Hand me my screwdriver," he says, holding out his hand. "It's in my left trouser pocket."

"'Kay…" She stands up, shoves her hand into the pocket and gasps as she feels how much room there is. "How am I gonna find anything in here?"

"Here, let me do it." He slips his hand into her pocket and she draws in a sharp breath as he brushes against her upper thigh. "What?"

"Nothing. Just, uhm, tickles."

"Oh. Didn't know my body was ticklish there. Mind you, no one ever touches my thighs so I suppose I've never— Ah! Here we go!" He pulls out the sonic screwdriver, smiling triumphantly. "Now we just have to get out of here, wait a couple of weeks or so, and everything will be hunky dory!"

"Great!" she says and claps her hands together as he starts working on the lock of the window with the sonic screwdriver. "Hold on. Why are we waiting a couple of weeks?"

"Hm?" he says, staring sheepishly at her.

"Doctor?"

"Weeeeell," he says, tugging at his ear. "This little body swap thing is irreversible."

She staggers back until she hits the wall, pressing her palms against the cool stones to steady herself. "What?" she breathes out.

"Our systems are working to break down the chemicals hindering our bodies from expelling the foreign consciousnesses and our consciousnesses from finding their way back home. Unfortunately, there's nothing I can to do speed up the process. We will have to let it runs its course. When it's time, it will feel like a sneeze, all tingly and, well, sneeze-like, and as soon as we feel that sneeze coming on, we have to have as much physical contact as possible and let our bodies work their magic." His eyes widen and a faint blush creeps up his cheeks. "Eeeer… Yep!" he squeaks and quickly turns back to the window. "As long as we keep up the physical contact—_innocent_ physical contact—everything will sort itself out. See? No problem!"

"But—"

He holds up one hand as he opens the window with the other. "No. Run now, questions later, all right?"

"Yep!" She gives him a curt nod but then stops him as he begins to climb out the window. "Oi! I should climb out first."

"Why?"

"'Cause when it's this high, you usually do and then you catch me when I jump. You'll break my legs if you jump out at this height, Doctor."

"Oh, right, yes. Go on, then."

Rose climbs up and takes a moment, staring down at the ground and then quickly scanning the surroundings. Luckily, the Grafflonians don't seem to anticipate many escapees and there's nothing separating the prison from the open fields that stretches as far as the eye can see. She takes a deep breath and jumps, bending her knees and rolling forward as she lands. She then gets up on her feet and turns around, holding out her arms.

"'Kay, I'm ready. Jump, Doctor."

It feels so strange, standing on the ground and, in a way, preparing to catch herself. The Doctor looks rather amused and shakes his head and then winks at her before letting go of the ledge. Rose breaks his fall and they tumble to the ground together, ending up with him on top in a position that would have given her a swooping feeling in her stomach, had the body swap not taken place. Right now, however, she's mostly confused. It should be like looking into the mirror, having her own face hovering over the one she's currently wearing, but it's not. The eyes are haunted and dark and there something in the energy he's exuding that makes her still see _him_ and, in some bemusing way, she's still attracted to him and that makes her rather uncomfortable. She clears her throat and gives him a pointed look, and he climbs off her and stands up.

"Better do that running, then, don't you reckon?" She grabs his hand and starts moving, but stops after only a couple of steps. "Wait. Which way? I don't even know where we are… Oh! Eugh."

"What?"

"There's so many _smells_! God, how can you stand it? This is gonna give me a headache, it is. I can just feel it," she groans.

"Ah. Seems as though your senses are starting to catch up. It's all a bit fuzzy right after the exchange. Fuzzy and…" He grimaces and wipes his tongue on his sleeve. "Well, you're lucky you have my superior body. You, at least, didn't have to vomit!"

"No, but I can smell it on you! Ugh, is there something I can do to, dunno, dampen this?"

"It will pass. It's like… Oh, I know, it's like how you humans can't smell the perfume you're wearing after a while. You'll get used to it and then you'll only smell the things that stand out."

"Okay, good. One less thing to worry about," she says with a nod. "So, TARDIS? How am I supposed to find her?"

"Right. Ehm. Well… Let's see… I should be able to do that if I only focus…" He sighs, brow furrowed and eyes closed as he concentrates. "Just need to pick up… Ah, yes! C'mon," he says, leading the way as they begin to run once more.

She stumbles a little, unused to these long legs, but quickly realises that her body instinctively knows what to do, as long as she focuses on something other than her new limbs.

"Your brain dampens the connection somewhat," the Doctor continues. "Well, I say somewhat but it's really considerably. Had to concentrate quite a lot to pick up on her consciousness, to be honest! Was just trying not to be rude."

"Yeah? Well, you're kinda rude anyway when you point it out, you know."

"Oh, right. Oops?"

"It's all right, I'm used to it," she says, smiling at him.

They haven't run for long when they reach a brook and the Doctor leans over and dips his fingers into the water.

"Blimey! It's freezing. We can't wade through this. We'll have to jump."

"Okay!" Rose says and runs towards the edge.

She takes the leap and flies over the brook with a _weeeeeee_ and, unprepared for the force of her motion, loses her footing as she lands, ending up on her bum. She hears the Doctor giggle behind her, so she turns around and glares at him.

"Yeah? Easy laughing when you've not even tried it yourself yet. Now, go on, Doctor." She smirks at him and places her hands on her hips. "Show me how well you can jump with a new body, yeah?"

The Doctor snorts and rolls up the sleeves of the pink hoodie he's wearing. "Oh I'm used to having a new body. This is nothing! Watch me soar, Rose Tyler." He backs up a little and then rushes towards the brook, taking the leap as he reaches the edge and then missing the other side by an inch, landing in the ice cold water. "Eeek!" he shrieks, quickly scrambling up on solid ground.

Rose can't help but laugh at him and leans forward, slapping her knees. "Nicely done! Ten out of ten!"

"Well, I've never been in a _human_ body before, have I? How you manage to do anything at all is beyond me," he says and pouts as he tries to wring out some of the water from his trouser legs.

He looks so pitiful and she feels guilty for laughing, so she takes a few steps towards him and places a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right? Did you hurt yourself?"

He gives her a tender smile and, even though he's currently occupying her body, it still manages to turn her insides into goo. "No, Rose, I'm fine. Let's keep running before someone notices we've escaped."

They start moving again and the Doctor keeps a running commentary about everything they see: the names of the purple flowers clinging to trees with black trunks; how to make lemonade from the berries of the most common bushes on Ulvuria; how long the days and nights are compared to on Earth; what kind of trip one gets by eating the mushrooms growing by the brook they jumped across earlier—something he found out completely by accident, of course—and so on. However, the further they get, the less he chats and soon he's silent, save his heavy breathing, and then he decreases his running speed until he's completely still. He bends forward with his hands on his thighs, catching his breath, and she strokes soothing circles over his back.

"Shouldn't talk so much, Doctor," she says softly. "You're human at the moment, remember? You're gonna waste a lot of energy if you keep yapping like that, all right?"

"Right. Hab-habit." He clutches at his stomach, sweat covering his forehead, making blond strands cling to his skin. "Water."

"Sit for a while. The brooks too far away, but I'll find you something juicy to eat, yeah? Those berries you talked about earlier, maybe?"

He shakes his head and points at her trousers. "Pocket. Hip fla-flask."

"Oh!" She shoves her hand down the front pocket, rummaging around for at least a minute before she feels sleek steel under her fingertips. She pulls out the flask and tosses it to the Doctor.

He takes several greedy mouthfuls before giving it back to her and then wipes his forehead with his sleeve. "Okay! On-onwards! Worse if-if I rest."

"You sure?"

"Yep. Nights. Freezing. TA-TARDIS now!"

"Doctor, you can barely speak. How are you supposed to run?"

He irately motions her to move forward so she shakes her head at the stubborn alien and complies. They set up a jogging speed Rose knows the Doctor can keep in her body without growing too tired and soon they see houses against the horizon; however, as they reach the city limits, the Doctor starts limping and then leans against the nearest building, whining and moaning.

"Are you all right?"

"My feet feel like they're on fire! How can you run with feet like these? Is there something wrong with your shoes?"

"Can you walk?"

"Yes," he says quietly, but he looks miserable so she turns around.

"C'mon then, up you get," she says, leaning forward and patting her back.

"You mean…?"

"Yep. You're not too old for a piggyback ride, are you, Doctor?" she says, grinning at him over her shoulder.

He hobbles the three steps between them and then jumps up on her back. She grabs ahold of his thighs and he slings his arms around her neck and then she starts running. It's surprisingly easy and she can't help but marvel over his superior physique, something she always assumed was an exaggeration on his part, but she finds she has no problem whatsoever taking them the last couple of miles to the TARDIS. Scared of being caught, they make sure to stick to quiet and dark streets and soon they reach the alley where the time ship is parked.

She unlocks the door and skips up the ramp, neighing to make him laugh, and then gingerly puts him down on the jump seat. He quickly takes off his shoes and carefully peels off his socks, looking as though he's doing something utterly terrifying. He gasps as his feet are uncovered, staring at the blisters and the chafing.

"My feet!"

"Ouch. Gotta hurt," she says, scrunching up her face. "I'll help you with those."

"That's kind of you, but I can do it myself. I _am_ a doctor."

"Well, those are my feet and I know just what they need."

She picks him up bridal style and then heads down the corridor towards her room, humming a little on that song they always play at weddings in films. He waggles his eyebrows at her and she grins at him but, as they reach her room and she pushes her hip against the button that will open the door, he furrows his brow in confusion.

"Why are we going to your room?"

"For some reason I really don't get, you keep the infirmary, like, ten minutes from the console room. My room is only two minutes, yeah?" she says, heading over to the en suite.

"But…what about supplies?!"

She pushes her hip against another button, opening the door to the en suite. "Got all we need right here!" she says and then puts him down on the toilet seat. "Remove your trousers. They're wet."

He complies and she pulls up a stool, places his feet in her lap and then reaches down to pick up the sodden jeans, tossing them into the laundry hatch. She leans back and opens the door to the sink cabinet, taking out the first aid kit she prepared during her first year aboard. She quickly finds the needle made out of Polfgurish metal, which never needs to be sterilised; an antibacterial solution from the 32nd century; gauze; a healing ointment that works wonders on minor scrapes and several Tulkovian waterproof plasters. Lifting herself up slightly from her seat, she quickly washes her hands in the sink and then gets to work. He's completely silent as she takes care of his feet, watching her every move with a strange expression on his face, and soon all of his blisters are drained, cleaned and dressed.

"All better!" she says and then starts tidying up after herself. "Your feet should be back to normal tomorrow. S'really good stuff, this," she says, holding up the ointment.

"Yes, I know. I showed you that," he says, still keeping his eyes on her by watching her reflection in the large mirror covering more than half of the wall. "Rose…?"

She dries her hands and turns around, leaning against the sink. "Mm?"

"How often do you do this?"

"Oh, pretty often, I reckon. Don't really keep count."

"You've…" He frowns and then stands up. "I showed you how to take care of blisters after the Gelth but you've never complained once after that. I thought it was just those shoes. Your feet actually get like this all the time?"

"Not _all_ the time."

"Why didn't you say something? I could've done this for you."

She lets out a laugh. "I can take care of my own feet, Doctor. S'no problem."

"But you've been hurt! You shouldn't have to do this yourself!"

She gets an impulse to cup his cheek, but that's not something she's done before and now he's in her body, he's not wearing any trousers and it's all very confusing, so she settles on just smiling at him.

"I don't want you to feel like you can't tell me when you're hurt, Rose."

"I don't. Honest. S'just…they're blisters, Doctor. They don't hurt less or heal faster 'cause I'm complaining, so I suck it up until we get home and then I tend to them myself, 'cause I know how."

"So, you really get this all the time? Feel like this?" he asks and she shrugs. "And the soreness? My whole body is aching! Feels like I've been running for days, not hours."

"Why do you think I usually take a bath as soon as we get home, huh? If I just needed to get clean, I'd take a shower." She nods at him and crinkles her nose. "You could do with a bath. Do I always smell this bad?"

He sniffs at himself. "Well, you smell a lot less to this nose but, yeah, suppose it's pretty accurate. Minus the vomit, though. The hair still smells a little…" He makes a face and tosses the blond strands over his shoulder.

"Really? I really smell like this to you every day? How can you stand it?"

"I think you smell lovely." He shakes his head. "Silly humans. Scared of your bodies' actual scents. It's just a little perspiration, Rose. It was a very hot and humid planet, no wonder this body reacted."

She bites her lip, grinning. "So, you think I smell lovely, huh?"

"Well… Considering." He beams at her and then begins to tug on the zip of the hoodie he's wearing. "Better take that bath, then."

"Yeah, you do that. I've got some really nice bath salt in the— No!" she cries out, stilling his hands. "You are _not_ taking a bath!"

"Why not? I'm dirty and everything hurts!"

"But-but-but…! You'll see me naked! And-and…" She stares at him, gesturing wildly around his torso. "And you'll touch my…everything! With your hands! Well, my hands, but it's still you, touching me!"

"I…" The Doctor begins but then quickly shuts up and ducks his head as his cheeks turn red.

It's the third time today she's seen him blush and, since she's never seen him do it before, she can't help but feel a little bad for him. She knows he's usually in complete control over his body and its reactions and this must be very hard on him, so she calms down and lets her arms hang by her sides.

"You're not taking a bath," she says, softly but firmly.

"But I'm dirty!"

"Then change your clothes or something. In the dark."

"What? I'm not allowed to shower for _two weeks_?"

"Oh, right! You were going to explain that to me. Are you seriously telling me we're stuck like this for that long?"

He shrugs and then starts looking through the products standing on a shelf next to the sink. "Not necessarily two weeks. Besides, could be worse. Did I ever tell you about the time Sarah Jane and I were abducted by scientists—and I use that title loosely—who wanted us to shag?"

"You were _what_?"

"Oh, we got out before anything happened, of course. I think she lost her brassiere, but that was it." He opens a jar of face cream, taking a sniff. "Mm! Are there real strawberries in this?"

She stares at him, mouth hanging open. "Is that…is that something that can actually happen?"

"Weeeell, yeah, not very likely, but yes." He scoops up some cream on his finger and sticks it into his mouth before she's had a chance to stop him. "Hm… I can't quite… Hmpf. Inferior taste buds." Making a face, he screws the lid back on and puts the jar on the shelf. "Once, I landed in the middle of a fertility celebration and almost had to copulate with Jamie before they realised he was a man." He sticks his tongue out a few times, still making a face. "Eugh. I'm fairly sure I've tasted that cream before and your tongue does not do it justice!"

"You what?"

"Oh, and then there was the Bvrkian sex festival of 4502, where participation was mandatory, but Romana and I managed to escape before anything really happened. I distracted them with my very long scarf. Bvrkians have never heard of knitwork, you see. Oooh, this is banana flavoured!" he says, eyes twinkling, as he holds up a bottle of deep conditioning treatment for split ends.

"No," she says, snatching it out of his hand. "It's banana _scented_. It's supposed to go in your hair, not your mouth!"

"Oh," he says, pouting. "Oh, well. Where was I? Right…. Shag-or-die—"

"What?" she squeaks. "It's so common you have a name for it?!"

"Eeeer… No. Not common at all!"

"Why have you never warned me about these things? I think I deserve to know I might, some day, find myself in a situation where I have to shag you!"

"But it's not common! It really isn't! It's happen to me five times, Rose. Five times. Five times during almost a millennium of travelling time and space. That is not a lot. Besides, it hasn't happened to us! I don't get why we are fighting about it! We're just having a little bodyswap situation here," he says, pointing between them. "Those two weeks will pass by in a jiffy and then we'll have a laugh about it. You'll see."

"Honestly?" She shakes her head. "I'd rather shag you than this."

"Really?" His jaw drops, the blush returning to his cheek, and she has to press her lips together to prevent herself from smiling.

"Yeah. Wouldn't you? At least that would be over in a few minutes instead of two bloody weeks."

"It would not!" he says, looking very offended. "I last a lot longer than a few minutes, thank you very much!" he says and sniffs, straightening his back and lifting his hand to adjust a tie he isn't wearing. He looks confused for a moment but then flips his hair instead, making her laugh so hard she has to support herself against the sink.

"What?" A deep frown forms on his face. "I do! I have _excellent_ stamina!" He looks dead serious and it only makes her giggle more. "What's so funny, hm?"

"This!" She gestures around them. "This whole thing. You being in my body, not wearing any trousers, boasting about your shagging skills. It's not exactly what I thought I was gonna get when I signed up, all right?" she says, wiping her eyes.

"Oh." His frown turns into something rather sheepish. "Weeeell…" He rubs his neck for a few seconds and then returns his attention to her shelf of products. "Oooh, you have hair gel!" He squeezes out a dollop on his finger, but this time Rose has time to stop him before he sticks it into his mouth.

"Okay. If we're stuck in each other's bodies for two weeks, yeah, we need rules. Like no eating weird things. Or licking them!" she says, giving the Doctor a pointed look as he pouts. "What to do about hygiene and, oh, dunno, if there's some weird Gallifreyan thing I need to know and— Oh, my god. When's my period?" she asks, boring her fingers into his arm as she stares at him with big, round eyes.

"Nah, we're good. You're not due yet for oh, say, seventeen days or so."

She lets out a sigh of relief as she says: "Ohthankyougod!"

"So…cuppa?" he asks, offering her his hand.

"Yeah." She says, heading towards the door when she realises what he just said. "No, hold on. You keep track of my period?"

"Well, yeah. You smell differently."

"I what?" she hisses. "You can smell…? Oh, my god! Why couldn't it just have been a shag-or-die?" she mutters to herself, looking up at the ceiling, wondering how she's ever going to be able to relax in his company once all of this is over.

"Your hormones!" he hurriedly clarifies. "Your hormones smell differently."

She stares at him for a few seconds and then she shakes her head and starts moving out of the en suite. "To hell with tea. I think I need alcohol for this."


	2. Rules

**Beta**: nonlinearmusing

* * *

"You don't have to do this," the Doctor says and giggles.

"Oh, I know. But it's great fun, innit?" Rose replies, racing down the corridor with him on her back. She takes the long way around to the galley, venturing into one of the gardens and jumping over a few very low bushes just for a laugh. "Starting to believe what you said about your stamina. Mind you, don't know about the shagging bit, but your body is amazing! I've never felt better in my life!"

"Deceptively strong, that's me!" he says and then nudges her gently with his heels. "Tally-ho, Rose! I see the galley door up ahead!"

She sprints the last bit, spurred on by the Doctor's cheers echoing throughout the TARDIS, and, as she finally puts him down, realises she hasn't as much as broken a sweat. Spoiling him a little, since his feet hurt, she lets him sit whilst she prepares a cuppa for him, something to nibble on for both of them and a big martini for herself. The Doctor declines alcohol since he doesn't know how her body will react to its effects, but she definitely needs something to take the edge off.

"Martini, hm?"

She shrugs. "Jack used to make 'em, remember? Still had some vermouth left."

"I remember," he says softly.

"Will this work, though?"

"If you want it to."

She takes a big gulp, eyes widening as she feels all the flavours explode on her tongue. "Whoa! That's…" She grabs the toothpick, pulls off one olive with her teeth and then crushes it with her molars, moaning as her mouth is filled with a salty and bitter taste. "God, this is…Mmmm."

He looks amused. "Like it?"

"Yeah! Uhm, Doctor? Does it bother you that I'm drinking in your body?" She takes a smaller sip, swishing it around inside her mouth.

He chuckles. "No. That stuff might be poison for you lot, but I can handle it. Even if you went and got yourself properly sloshed, my body would still be able to break down the alcohol in a matter of seconds and you'd be sober without ever suffering a hangover. Well," he says, dipping his fingers into a jar of marmalade. "If you manage to get a hang of how to work my body's system, that is."

He grins at her and then sticks his fingers into his mouth, sucking off the big glob he scooped up.

She frowns, first at him and then at the drink. "Oh. Well, one won't hurt me! Besides, it tastes fantastic in this mouth!"

"Oh, I know." He shoves some more marmalade into his mouth, humming happily as he swallows. "Does it bother you that I'll probably finish this whole jar?"

She gives him a stern look. "No, not as long as you brush my teeth before we go to bed!"

"Cross my hearts," he says and then leans over the table, drawing with his fingers over Rose's chest.

She sucks in a sharp breath and feels her cheeks heating up, so she gets up from her chair and brings the jar of olives from the fridge, pretending she wants more for her drink. It's technically the Doctor's body, so it's not strange that he should touch it, but she's still the one on the receiving end and, although he currently wears her body, she can't help but feel… Confused, freaked out and a little turned on, to be quite honest, which only makes her more confused. God! She groans inwardly, biting her lip as she pierces a few more olives onto her toothpick.

"So, rules!" she says. It comes out a bit too forcefully, so she prattles on to cover up her flustered state. "You are not touching my… You're not allowed to even _look_ at my body."

"What? You mean all of it or just…you know?"

"I mean, my…parts. Breasts and other parts, yeah?"

"Vulva, Rose. The word you're looking for is vulva."

"Really? I thought it was vagina."

"No, vulva are the, ehm, the," he makes a circling motion with his hand, "outer bits. The vagina is the-the—"

"The love canal," she fills in for him, waggling her eyebrows.

He looks up at her in surprise and lets out a guffaw. "Is that what Mickey called it?"

She sticks her tongue out at him but doesn't reply.

"Anyway… I won't touch your _love canal_," he says, over-enunciating the word and grinning at her, "but what am I supposed to do in the loo, Rose? Am I not allowed to wipe?"

She firmly plants her head on the table, nearly knocking over her martini glass in the process. "Oh, god. Haven't even thought about that whole thing. Of course you need to wipe! And I have to hold your…when I need to pee!"

"Rose, they're just body parts, all right? Does it really matter if we see each other's genitals?"

"I…" She looks up at him. "You don't mind?"

"No."

"Really? You really don't mind me washing your penis?" she asks and then she starts laughing. "Oh, god! This is so weird!"

"I don't mind. We can't walk around for two weeks pretending we don't have bodies. I suggest we are allowed to touch when needed, like in the loo, but no…exploring."

"Yeah, definitely not! And no travelling! I reckon we would do more harm than good like this. You don't know my body's limits and you could get me seriously hurt, Doctor."

"I agree. If something were to happen that could start the regeneration process? I don't even know what would happen! We need to be very careful," he says, nodding. "So, what do you say? Let's go shower and get ready for bed. I'm knackered. This little human body needs sleep and I would assume my body does as well. A consciousness transfer is very taxing on the system."

"Yeah." She worries her lips, staring quietly into her drink for a moment. "Doctor?"

"Yes?"

"I've never washed a penis before."

His face breaks out in a smile. "No? Not even Mi—" He shuts his mouth when she glares at him. "Well, just pull back the foreskin gently and wash underneath," he explains in a clinical tone she's sure she's never used herself and it's sounds a little strange to her ears.

"I can do that," she says, but the thought of it makes her feel uncomfortable. "And no soap in my parts, all right? I don't much fancy waking up with a yeast infection in two weeks."

"I know, Rose."

"You do?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm a doctor?"

"Many, apparently," she says and then downs the rest of her drink. "All right!" She claps her hands together as she stands up. "Let's go wash each other's genitals."

Chuckling quietly, he stands up as well and walks up to her, placing a hand on her arm. "Rose, are you all right?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry you have to go through this. I promise I will treat your body with the utmost respect."

"Thank you. I promise, too," she says and then they hug. She leans her chin on his head, taking a sniff. "Yeah. Definitely need to bathe."

He pulls back, smiling at her. "Good luck. See you tomorrow," he says and walks out of the galley.

"Yeah…" she breathes out. "I'm so not looking forward to this."

* * *

"Okay," Rose says, carefully avoiding the mirror as she stands naked in her en suite. "Time to wash the Doctor's body. And his penis. Just regular boring old stuff. Nothing special or weird about it. Nope. C'mon, Rose, you can do this!"

She steps under the hot spray and lets the water wash over her for a moment before grabbing a shampoo bottle and getting to work on his hair to warm herself up to the idea of washing his body. It's not that she minds, but rather the real problem is that she's been lusting after him for quite some time now and this was _not_ how she imagined getting intimately acquainted with his Time Lord bits. This is both exciting as well as the biggest turnoff she's experienced in her life and she has no idea how to deal with all of these conflicting emotions.

Her eyes are drawn to a big pink shower puff, hanging from the tap. Perfect! This way she won't have to actually touch him all that much. She scrubs his whole body, trying not to look too closely at what she's doing. It's tempting—very tempting, of course—but they have promised each other to treat their bodies with respect and she's not going to be a stupid ape, driven by lust and curiosity, and explore his— She sucks in a deep breath, banishing those thoughts from her mind, and continues to wash every part of him until it's just his genitals left. It's time; she can do this!

"Can't believe I'm finally getting to touch your cock and it has to be like this," she mutters to herself and then she wraps her hand around it. "All right, Rose, just think about Mickey shrieking in a cupboard full of dead rats and everything will be just fine."

She bites the bullet and quickly finishes up with the washing, definitely not taking note of the length or girth or how it feels to have her penis touched. She absolutely does not wonder how a male orgasm is compared to a female or a Gallifreyan to a human. Nope. Not even a little bit.

It's not until she's stepped out of the shower that she realises she won't have anything to wear once she's dried off. She really doubts she has anything in her closet that will fit this body. She wraps herself in a large fluffy towel, walks out into her bedroom and finds the Doctor draped in a very large dark blue dressing gown, already waiting for her.

"You're drowning in that," she says, smiling fondly at him.

"Yes, I'm well aware," he says, mirroring her expression.

"Take it you're here for some jimjams?"

"Yep. Didn't feel comfortable rummaging through your closet without your permission."

"Really? That surprises me, actually. You've never really been much for privacy. At least not _mine_," she says, poking her tongue between her teeth as she grins.

"Weeeell," he says, running his hand through his hair and then, for a couple of seconds, staring bemusedly at the blond tresses as this fingers get caught in a few knots. "Different now, I suppose."

"Yeah."

"Anyway…" He raises his eyebrows as he draws in a deep breath.

"Right. Any preferences?"

"Don't suppose you have any pinstripes?"

"I think I do, actually." She walks over to her wardrobe and picks out a pair of jimjams and then tosses them at him. "Did you bring something for me?"

"It's on your bed."

"Oh, thanks." She stares at him for a moment, chewing on her lip and trying not to think about him having his fingers between her legs washing her most private area. These two weeks can not be over fast enough. "Well… Suppose this isn't anything you've never seen before," she says and removes the towel, putting on the jimjams laid out on her bed.

"Nope. Old news, that," he says, standing silently for a moment as she crawls into bed. "Weeelll… Still new new Doctor, but…" he trails off, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet.

"Doctor? Is something the matter?"

"Hm? No. Nope. Everything is fine. Well, all things considering… Anyway… I'm gonna." He nods at the door. "Night."

"Yeah, night."

She watches him as he leaves, chewing thoughtfully on her lip and wondering if something's wrong. Well, something other than the whole body swap situation. Oh, well, if he's not in the mood to open up, there's not much she can do, so she curls up on her side, snuggling into her pillow. Its scent is so much stronger than she's used to, but it's very comforting and familiar and she deeply breathes it in, trying to relax. Knowing how little the Doctor sleeps, and being unused to all of these improved senses his body is equipped with, she assumed it would take her quite some time to fall asleep. However, the TARDIS' gentle humming fills her mind and she soon finds herself beginning to relax enough so as to drift off to sleep. She has always been able to hear the time ship's singing, especially after they looked into each other's hearts, but never as clear as this. She still doesn't understand it in the way the Doctor does, but his evolved brain helps her keep the connection up and soon the TARDIS has lulled her to sleep.

Some time during the night, she starts awake as the calm tone of the time ship turns into one of distress. Rose sits up and jumps out of bed, rushing to her door and out into the corridor, guided telepathically by the TARDIS. She's not yet awake enough to know what she's doing and, consequently, trips on her feet several times. She catches her balance by reaching out to the wall to steady herself. She eventually stumbles through a door and, looking around, realises she's in the Doctor's bedroom. He's writhing and crying out in his sleep, so she rushes up to his bed, finding him drenched in sweat and hair sticking to his forehead.

"Doctor," she says gently, kneeling by his bedside. "Doctor, wake up. You're having a nightmare."

His eyes fly wide open, staring at her in horror, and then he lets out a long wail as he scrambles backwards in the bed. He reaches the edge but, still in the throes of his nightmare, he doesn't seem to notice and falls off, landing with an _oomph_.

"No, no, no, no," he says, trembling and curling up against the wall. "No. Don't. Please don't."

"It's just me, Doctor," she says, slowly approaching him with her hands held up in the air, palms towards him.

"No!" His chin is quivering and his eyes are tearing up as he tries to make himself as small as possible. "I had no choice! Please don't."

"I know, sweetheart. I know. Everything will be all right," she says, subconsciously repeating words her mum told her when she had nightmares as a child. "I'm here. I'll protect you." She sits down beside him and pulls him into a hug, gently stroking his back. "I'm here, Doctor."

"Rose?" he says, sounding like a small boy.

"Yeah?"

"Oh, it's you," he breathes out, clutching her closer. "I thought…" He chuckles but it sounds so hollow and she makes soothing sounds to help him calm down, still caressing him.

"I'm here, Doctor. D'you want me to sleep in your room tonight?"

"Yeah," he says and then she feels him tense up in her arms. "No! No, no. I'm fine. I'm all right."

"Don't be silly. C'mon." She lifts him up and lays him down in the bed, crawling in under the covers beside him. "Wanna talk about it?"

"No." He's quiet for a moment so she reaches out and takes his hand. He gives it a squeeze. "I think… My consciousness is still connected to the TARDIS, of course, but your brain, Rose, it's not… I'm not trying to insult you. You know I think you're brilliant. But your brain is inferior to mine and the TARDIS… Well, usually she helps me with my nightmares and now…"

"Oh. I'm so sorry, Doctor," she says, feeling guilty and stupid even though she knows it's not her fault.

"Oh, Rose. Don't blame yourself. Please don't. I couldn't bear it," he says quietly and then wraps his arms around her, holding her close.

They have never lain like this before and she can't help but wonder what it would feel like had they been in their own bodies. It's still lovely, in a way; delicate, intimate and sort of familiar, but also very—

"This feels a little strange," he says, taking the words right out of her mind.

She giggles. "Yeah, tell me about it. Was just thinking the same thing."

"Would you prefer to…not?"

"No. I like it. Is that okay?"

"Yes. I… It feels…"

"Yeah."

"Yeah." He snuggles a little bit closer, arm over her waist, his hand placed over her chest and his nose nuzzled in between her shoulder blades. "Thank you."

"Any time." She takes his hand, weaving their fingers together. "Really, Doctor. Any time."

* * *

There's a warm body next to hers. Oh, it's soft as well and smells so, so good. There's a straining sensation in her groin, throbbing and heavy, in need of…something. She moves her hips, grinding and rocking against the person lying next to her, breathing in that heady, gorgeous scent.

"Rose…" she hears her own voice say, although she's not speaking at all. "What are…?"

Then there's giggling. Is there supposed to be giggling?

"Rose, stop humping me," the Doctor says, chuckling as he moves away from her.

"Wha'?"

She's confused for another couple of seconds before realising what's going on. Memories of the day before come crashing through her mind: body swap, running, draining blisters and washing the Doctor's penis and, oh my god, she's been rubbing her morning stiffie against him. She scrambles back with a yelp, glaring at him as he clutches his stomach and giggles.

"It's not funny!" she snaps.

"It's very funny!"

"I had a dream, all right? And-and you—" She lets out a frustrated groan. "Do I always smell this good to you? You smell like… It's like it goes straight to my…" She looks down at her crotch and then quickly looks up again, not feeling very comfortable with staring at the Doctor's erect penis, even though it's covered by pyjama bottoms and a thin sheet.

"Well," the Doctor says and now it's he that seems flustered, cheeks pink. She can't help but snigger at that. "I, ehm, well, you see… Ahem. I had a dream as well. The kind that might have made this body emit certain pheromones that body reacts to." He clears his throat, adopting a neutral expression, voice turning clinical. "You would've had an erection either way, though. Nocturnal penile tumescence is the body's way of making sure everything is working as it's supposed to and a healthy man will experience this several times per night."

"Yeah, I know that. Just didn't know that you… Mean, you're a Time Lord. Thought you were above that sort of thing."

"I am!" He gets out of bed, stretching a little. "Breakfast? I'm starving."

"Yeah. Just… What am I supposed to do with this thing?" she asks, standing up as well.

"Don't think naughty thoughts and I'm sure you'll be fine," he says, grinning at her.

"I didn't! It was—" She sucks in air, fast and sharp. "Hold on! Do I always smell like that when I'm…? Oh, my god! You said it yourself yesterday. You can smell my hormones! So, you can tell when I…?" she says, to her horror realising exactly why he was smelling her in the alley.

The Doctor's eyes widen, the blush returning to his cheeks. "Eeeer…"

"Oh, my god! You can!" She jumps into bed again, pulling the covers over her head.

"Rose…"

"Go away!"

"Rose," he says and she feels the mattress dip as he sits down beside her. "It's perfectly natural for a healthy human female to feel aroused. Especially considering the life we lead. There's the rush of adrenaline, of course, but also the need to procreate in or after dangerous situations. Your hormones and instincts are doing what they're supposed to."

"But you can smell it every time?" she hisses, feeling mortified. "God, I didn't want to know that!"

"I'm sorry."

"Please go away. I need to be alone," she mumbles, turning on her side, back to him.

"All right. I'll go prepare breakfast. Come out whenever you feel ready."

"Yeah, thanks."

Her erection has already gone down, but she stays in bed for a long time anyway. She knows exactly why she's aroused so often. She's sharing her life with a man she not only finds dead sexy, but loves with all of her heart. Oh, she knows they can never be anything more than best mates, which she accepted a long time ago, but she can't control her body's reaction to him and knowing that he can tell every time she feels the urge to jump his bones, makes her want to crawl under a rock and turn into mulch. Granted, it does feel rather good that his body apparently reacts to her pheromones and that knowledge almost makes this whole experience worth it.

* * *

Rose sighs happily, tummy full of breakfast, and leans back in her chair, running a hand over her face, scratching the stubble. "Suppose I'll have to shave…"

"I can help you with that, if you're feeling nervous," he says and stands up, starting to clear the table.

"Yeah, thanks. I think that might be for the best. So…go shower and get dressed, then? Suppose we'll have to use each other's en suites."

He smiles. "Sounds like a plan. You go ahead, I'll clear this up and then I'll come to my room and help you."

"'Kay."

"Oh, and Rose?"

"Yeah?"

"I assume you'll need to urinate soon, so remember to pull back the foreskin a little."

"Oh… I had no idea! Thanks!" she says with a smile, but it fades as she realises that he must have not only peed several times by now, but also moved his bowels. She groans.

"What?"

"Nothing!"

She quickly walks out of the galley and lets the TARDIS guide her to the Doctor's bedroom door. It's not a place she's spent a lot of time in and, before this morning, never alone, but she can't let her curiosity get the best of her. She goes directly to his en suite instead, gasping as she sees how grand and luxurious it is. It's not as though her bathroom is small or shabby, but his is really something else. The polished, grey marble floor feels comfortably warm under her bare feet as she moves to the far end of the room to turn on the shower located by the enormous square tub. She jumps back with a surprised gasp as water starts drizzling from the tiny holes all over the ceiling in the stall.

"Cool!" she says, nodding happily and patting the wall. "Think you could make mine like this as well, TARDIS?" she asks and gets a positive hum in reply. "Thanks!"

Feeling a pressing need, she walks over to the toilet, pulls down her pyjama bottoms and takes herself in hand. It's the first time she's had to pee since the swap and she has to admit that she's looking forward to it. She's always wondered what it would be like to pee as a man and was a bit bummed out when she realised that a Gallifreyan doesn't have to relieve themselves very often.

She takes aim, gently pulls back the foreskin and then relaxes, grinning to herself as she urinates and then giggling at herself for being so silly. Knowing it's something most men do afterwards, she lightly shakes her penis and then, out of habit, wipes it as well. She keeps her eyes directed slightly to the left of it. It's enough to see what she's doing, but she doesn't get a good look.

"That went well!" she says to herself with a nod and then pulls off her pyjama shirt and trousers and steps into the shower stall.

Once she's showered and dried off, she walks out into his bedroom and opens his wardrobe, looking at the rows of clothes. Wearing a suit all day doesn't seem very comfortable to her but, considering he always wears the same type of clothes, she's not sure if it's disrespectful or not to dress his body in something else. Worrying her bottom lip for a moment, she finally settles on jimjams since they're staying in anyway and smiles to herself as she finds a gorgeous, ruby red pyjama set in silk.

She's just finished dressing when there is a knock on the door and the Doctor enters. Her jaw drops when she sees that he's wearing a simple, white shirt with a wide spread collar; a tomato coloured tie; a pair of brown slacks with a matching suit jacket and, of course, her only pair of chucks. They're canary yellow and doesn't quite go with the rest of his outfit, but somehow he's pulling it off, even though she doubts she'd ever be able to herself.

"You're looking good," she says with a smile. "Really good. Where did you find that ensemble?"

He adjusts his tie and tugs a little at the hem of the jacket. "Found it in the wardrobe room. The TARDIS helped me. Think they belonged to Romana. So…ready to have your face shaved?"

"Yeah!"

Sitting on the toilet seat and feeling his fingers massage shaving oil on her face and neck, Rose is starting to understand why an act like this so often is depicted as erotic on telly. Her eyes are closed, so she can easily imagine that his fingers are really his and her face is really hers and it does funny things to her insides. She hears him grabbing something and then there's the soft splashing of water and a fresh, minty scent filling the air. Shortly after that, she feels a brush moving over her skin and she lets out a content sigh.

"Feels good, I take it?" he says, breaking the illusion a little.

She hums, wondering if she should ask him to continue talking because the way this is making her feel is leading somewhere potentially embarrassing.

"There. I'll start shaving now, all right?"

"Mhm."

She feels him repeatedly run the blade over her cheeks and every stroke sends shivers down her spine, making her hearts speed up their beating. It still feels odd, having two, and she can't help but wonder if he feels lopsided or, perhaps, empty.

In her mind, she sees him in his own body, focused expression on his face and his tongue curled over his teeth, touching his lip, and that is really not a mental picture that helps her right now. She tries to block out everything but the raspy sound of the razor against her stubble but, for some reason, she finds that sexy as well and she groans inwardly at this whole stupid situation.

"Roll your lip," he says and she does, keeping it that way until he's finished shaving the skin between her mouth and her nose. "And tilt your head back," he says, pressing gently with his fingers under her chin.

He continues to shave her, letting his fingers run over her skin now and then to check the result, and soon she's half hard and uncomfortable in her pyjama bottoms. She tries thinking about very unsexy things and impatiently taps her foot, hoping it's all over soon.

"I'm almost done, Rose," he assures her, sounding a little amused.

"'Kay," she says, keeping her eyes closed because she doesn't want to know if he's noticed the state she's in.

There's the sound of water again and then she feels a cold, wet flannel against her skin. He carefully wipes her face and neck and then pats it dry with a towel, a strangled moan escaping her lips as he ends the treatment by rubbing a soothing shaving balm on her skin.

"There," he says and she finally opens her eyes. Luckily, he's standing with his back to her, tidying up after himself. "Did you pay attention? Or do you want me to do this tomorrow as well?"

"You trust me with your sideburns?"

"Yes. If you think you can do it, then so do I."

"Yeah, I think I can. Thanks."

"Good. Remember not to go against the direction of the hair growth, though. It's a bit tricky and you can get razor burn. Granted, my body heals fast but you'd still feel it."

"Yep."

"All right. I'll leave you to get dressed, then. I'll be in the library," he says and then smiles to her via the reflection of the mirror before leaving.

She lets out a sigh of relief and waits for her penis to soften before standing up and walking after him. There's no doubt in her mind that he noticed but, considering that his keen sense of smell has alerted him of how often she gets aroused for nearly two years now, she assumes he's used to it. She can't help but feel embarrassed about it nevertheless and decides to keep wearing the pyjama set, thinking loosely fitted bottoms might be a good idea until she's figured out a way to control his body's reaction to stimulation.

* * *

"So…" Rose says, sitting in the sofa in the media room later that evening, popcorn bowl in her lap. "This day's almost over. How was it? Think you can handle being in the vortex for another twelve?"

"We could always explore the TARDIS. There are so many rooms here, I don't think I've been inside even half of them."

"Yeah! That's a great idea."

"Might even find ourselves some trouble. I'm sure there's a cave somewhere with a dragon guarding a treasure," he says with a wink.

"I know you're joking but, honestly Doctor, I wouldn't be surprised."

"Me neither. You don't even wanna know what kind of stuff I keep in the attic," he says, making a silly face. "So, what are we watching?"

"_Ghostbusters_! Saw it in the media library. Haven't seen it since I was a kid. I always found those monster dogs scary. With the eyes?" she says, pointing at hers. "The red eyes."

"Oh, you mean Vhentorians. I helped negotiate that, actually."

"They're real?" she whispers, making herself a little bit smaller in her seat.

"Oh, yeah." He nods, tossing some popcorn into his mouth. "Well, they were called terror dogs in the film and were supposedly hellhounds, but that's not true. They were actually six stranded Vhentorians who agreed to act the two parts in exchange for a lock of Dan Aykroyd's hair."

"Huh?"

"Well, special effects weren't as easy back then, so…" he says with a shrug.

"Oh, I get that. But…the hair?"

"Oh, that. You see, the Vhentorians travelled to Earth because Dan Aykroyd is very popular there. They love _My Stepmother Is An Alien_, _The Coneheads_ and _Crossroads_ but, of course, their love for him, the reason why they even discovered these films, was _Ghostbusters_."

"But… It wasn't even made!"

"To them, it was. They had travelled in time as well as space. Ghostbusters is a classic on Vhentoria because it features real live Vhentorians! So…" He raises his eyebrows, looking expectantly at her to fill in the gap.

"Ooooh!" She points at him, bouncing a little in her seat. "It's a time loop!"

"Right-o! And I," he says, looking smug, "helped them solve that little conundrum."

"So those Vhentorians…are they friendly?"

"Oh, yes. Just a bit unfortunate looking. Well, to humans anyway. Those in the film were considered great beauties. Mind you, the popularity of the film might have skewed the ideals of their species so, in a way, they made themselves beautiful," he says, closing his eyes and furrowing his brow in concentration.

She waits until he opens them again, knowing he's probably giving the TARDIS a silent command to start the film and, just as she thought, the screen flickers to life a few seconds later.

"What about the marshmallow giant? Was he an alien as well?"

"Oh, you mean Bob? We go way back."

"What?!"

The Doctor giggles, grabs a handful of popcorn and shoves it into his mouth, chewing with his mouth open. "I'm joshing you."

"Oh," she says, playfully nudging him in the side.

They settle in, as always with ample room between them in the spacious sofa, watching the film and making a few comments here and there. It always annoyed her when Mickey chatted as they watched films or telly together, but with the Doctor it only makes the experience more enjoyable. When it ends, Rose suggests they watch the sequel and the Doctor nods and, by the looks of his expression, focuses intently to change films and make it play. Halfway into it, she notices him sagging a little in the sofa, eyes drifting shut and then fly wide open as he straightens his back. She doesn't say anything at first but, as it continues to happen, she reaches out, placing a hand on his arm.

"Doctor? Maybe you should go to bed."

"Hm?" He clears his throat, sitting stiffly in the sofa, looking rather uncomfortable. "Nope. I'm fine."

"I could come with you. If you want."

"No, that's… You're not tired, Rose. I know you're not."

She worries her lip, regarding him for a moment. "We could have a slumber party, yeah? I'll get us some blankets and jimjams and we can cuddle up on the sofa—"

He swallows, shifting a little in his seat. "Rose, that's not… I don't…"

She strokes his arms once and gets up from the sofa. "Oh, I know. S'just for now, yeah? Whilst you're stuck with my ape brain. You can sleep and I'll watch something so I'll be there in case you need me. Just put on something really long. Like…"

"You said the other day when you saw those girls with knee socks that you've not seen _Clueless_ in a while. Maybe that one?"

"You remember that?"

"Yeah, of course."

She smiles. "Oh. Yeah. I'll have a '90s high school movie marathon! Great idea, Doctor! Put it on, I'll be right back."

Rose has to admit that she is a little surprised that he's still awake when she comes back ten minutes later. She throws him the jimjams and turns her back to him, arranging blankets and pillows on the sofa to make it as comfortable as possible. When she turns back around again, he has changed his clothes and is already half-crawled into his spot.

She sits down beside him, a little bit closer this time but not so close that they're touching. "You haven't brushed my teeth."

"Oh, sorry. I… It's not something I have to do. Didn't think…"

"It's all right. I'll let you off the hook tonight. But you better do it from now on!" she says, jabbing her finger in his face, smiling good naturedly.

"Yep!" He stretches his arms out, yawning widely. "Blimey! What time is it anyway? Can't quite get a hang of it with this brain. So frustrating, not being able to utilise…" He trails off, shaking his head with a shrug.

She casts a glance at her mobile. "It's ten in the evening."

"What? That's it? But you usually go to bed at one." He frowns at her. "Rose, are you usually this tired by ten?" he asks and she looks away, picking at the fringe of the blanket. "Why do you stay up?"

She turns back to him, biting her lip as she mulls over how much is _too_ much. They are the best of mates, but there's always an invisible wall between them and so many things are left unsaid; however, it's not been two days since the bodyswap and they are already more open with one another than they are normally. If there were ever a time to say this, it's now.

"I love our life. Doing what's right, what no one else has the guts to do. I, uhm, I love the thrill of it, as well. The rush of running and surviving… Oh, and I love seeing things I could never even imagine in my wildest dreams!" she says, body turned to him but eyes directed at the screen, although she's not paying attention to the film. It's nice, blindly staring at something moving whilst she opens up just a little bit more. Besides, she and Shareen used to watch this all the time growing up, practically knowing it by heart at one point, so it's not like she's missing anything important.

"But…I love this as well," she confesses, voice softer and lower. "Spending time with you. That's… Doctor," she says, clearer and stronger now as she returns her gaze to him. "I enjoy being with _you_."

She swallows and fights the urge to duck her head, meeting his eye as he looks tenderly at her. Although it's her own brown eyes staring back at her, the look in them is the same he always gives her when they share a quiet moment together; a look that makes her stomach spin around and her knees turn into jelly.

"Doctor?"

"Mm?"

"What…uhm… What do you see when you look at me? In this," she says, gesturing at the body she's in.

The corners of his mouth turn slightly up. "I see you."

"You do?"

"Rose, that is my tenth body. For humans of your time and society, you _are_ your bodies. However, to my people, changing one's vessel is commonplace and we learn to recognise one another in other ways. It's like… It's like when someone shaves off their beard. The first few minutes, or hours even, it looks strange. He's like a whole new person. But then you get used to it and you can barely remember what he looked like _with_ a beard. "

She smiles. "Oh, yeah. I got that when mum tried being a brunette once. Lasted a week before she turned back."

"But you don't see me yet," he says, understanding smile on his lips.

"Sometimes? Dunno. When I look into your eyes, yeah, I see… I still see you. I do, Doctor, but it's hard to…" She gestures around his body. "All of this. It's hard to look past it."

"Rose, you are doing so well. You _are_. You've barely let this faze you. I'm very impressed."

"Yeah?"

"Mm." He lets out another long yawn. "Did you know that this film is a modern version of Jane Austen's _Emma_?"

"No, I didn't."

"Are you familiar with it?"

"Yeah, read it in school. Well, I mostly skimmed it and watched the film," she says, grinning, and he clucks his tongue at her. "Remember the characters rather well, though."

"Yeah?"

They turn their attention to the screen, chatting about the differences and similarities between the original story and the modern version. She suspects it's a way for him to make himself stay awake for a little while longer, so she indulges him, but shortly before the credits roll, the TARDIS changes her pitch and, seconds later, Rose hears the Doctor's light snoring.

He has already set up her little marathon, so the next film starts without her having to do anything at all. She tries to relax and focus on the plot, but this body she's wearing is full of energy and sometimes she needs to get up and stretch for ten minutes or so; however, she settles on taking a walk about the room rather than wandering the hallways so she can be there, holding the Doctor's hand as soon as he whimpers in his sleep. She never knew about his nightmares or that he even dreamed. During their travels, they've had to share rooms and cells many times, but the closest he's ever been to sharing a bed with her, has been sitting by her side as she's slept. Although they've never had much concept of personal space, some things have definitely been off limits. He's carefully and expertly drawn lines between them without ever uttering a word about it and sleeping has always been done separately.

Now, though… Now she's seeing a new side of him that seems helpless in her human body. He's frowning a little in his sleep so she moves closer, wrapping her arm around his shoulder, feeling him relax. Unaware of her doing so, she starts humming a lullaby her mum used to sing to her when she was little and doesn't realise it until she hears the TARDIS harmonising with her. She makes an amused but appreciative sound, trying to open up her mind more to the time ship as she rests against the Doctor and just lets time pass until morning comes.


	3. Shopping

**Beta**: resile  
**A/N:** So sorry that it took me so long to finish this. I've struggled a bit with writer's block lately (hence all the prompts and, yes, it helped). Hopefully, the next chapter won't take as long.

* * *

Although she wasn't tired, Rose must have drifted off during the night because, as her mobile phone starts buzzing on the coffee table in front of her, she finds herself half draped over the still sleeping Doctor. She smacks her tongue a few times and groans a little as sits up, reaching for her mobile.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you answering my daughter's phone in eight in the morning?"

Rose rubs her forehead. "Mum?"

"Don't you mum me. I'm not your blooming mother!"

"What? Oh! Yeah, sorry. Uhm… Rose is asleep, yeah?"

"You sound weird. Are you doing something inappropriate?"

"Uh… No, 'course not. What's this about, then?"

"What's it to you? I'm not ringing you, am I?"

"Okay… I, uhm, hold on." She covers the transmitter with one hand, lightly rocking the Doctor with the other. "Doctor," she whispers. "Doctor wake up! You gotta talk to mum."

"Sleeping," he mumbles, frowning at her, not opening his eyes.

"Wake up!" she hisses. "It's mum, all right? She wants to talk to her _daughter_."

"What? Huh? Who? Jackie?" He quickly sits up straight, blinking as he looks around the room. "Is she here? How did she get in here? Where is she?"

"No, you plum," she says, waving her mobile in front of him.

"Ooooh." He clears his throat and then rolls his shoulders, shaking his arms a little and tossing his hair back before grabbing the mobile. "Hello, mum? What is it?" he says, voice ridiculously high.

Rose swats him on the arm. "Don't need to alter your voice! Just speak like a normal person!"

"I'm barely awake!" he whispers, glaring at her. He hums at something her mum says on the other end and, although Jackie of course can't see him, nods a few times before saying yes and making a face. "Byyyye!" He shudders. "Ugh."

"What was it?"

"She called me sweetheart and did kissing noises," he says, scrunching up his face.

She grins at him. "Yeah, she does that. You're her little girl now, you are."

"She wants me to come shopping with her in two hours!" he says with a pout, folding his arms over his chest. "Apparently there's a wedding? And you promised?"

Rose smacks her forehead. "Oh, fuck!"

The Doctor gasps but looks pleasantly surprised. "Oooh, I've never heard you say something filthy before!"

"Yeah? Well, that's just 'cause we still haven't–" She shuts her mouth with a click, blinking innocently at him as his falls open. "We can just wait this out, yeah?" she quickly says, cheeks burning and hearts thumping so hard in her chest she's surprised she's not vibrating off the sofa. "And then we'll go back in time? 'Cause I don't think either of us wants mum to find out about this."

"Imagine the slaps!" the Doctor whispers, eyes round with horror.

"Mhm. She'd probably slap you for years!" She starts bouncing around a bit in the sofa. "So, want breakfast? I've been still for much too long."

"Yeah, sure. I–" He scrunches up his face. "My mouth tastes horrible!" He repeatedly sticks his tongue in and out. "Ugh! Granted, it was bad yesterday morning as well, but this really takes the biscuit."

"Well, someone didn't brush last night," she singsongs.

"I'm on it!"

Rose shoves the mobile into her pocket and picks up the popcorn bowl and their teacups from last night, walking to the galley. After turning on the kettle and doing the dishes, she takes out eggs, bacon and a pan, and puts a few bread slices in the toaster. He soon joins her and they cook together; she fries the bacon and he scrambles the eggs, letting the sounds of fat sizzling in the pan and the whisk hitting the bowl fill up their companionable silence. He takes out plates and she shuffles some food onto them; she grabs their now dry cups from the dish rack and he fills them up with tea. They take their seats, exchanging smiles and lifting forks to dig in, but they have barely had time for a single mouthful before Rose's mobile rings again.

Holding out his hand, the Doctor rolls his eyes as Rose gives him her mobile.

"Yes, mum," he says, managing to sound very much like a bratty teenager. "Yes, mum. Mhm. Yeah. Yes, I remember. Bye." He grimaces, handing her back the mobile and she lays it next to her plate. "She wanted to remind you to bring the necklace your nan gave you, 'cause if you don't wear it to your cousin's wedding there will be hell to pay. And you have to make sure it matches your dress."

"Yeah, I bet," she mumbles around her food.

"When's the wedding?"

"Two weeks from now. Had forgotten all about it." She takes a sip of her tea, rolling it over her tongue before letting it slide down. "Gotta say, yeah, can't get over how good everything tastes with this mouth! S'like I can taste everything! I'm really starting to get why you lick stuff. Don't understand all of it, though, all these different tastes, but I can…" She crinkles her forehead, looking at him to help her out. "It's like… Orange blossom?"

"Mm," he says, nodding as he chews on some bacon.

She licks her lips and then smacks her tongue. "Redcurrant?"

"Yep!"

"And…" She sucks a little on her tongue. "Is it–"

The mobile buzzes again, vibrating across the wooden surface of the table until it hits her plate with a clink.

"What does she want now?" The Doctor sighs and reaches over to pick it up. "Yes?" He stares into open space as he listens, face suddenly turning pale. "What? No! Absolutely not. What do you mean why? 'Cause he doesn't want to!" He frowns. "What? He's not my boyfriend! He's not anyone's boy–" He looks up. "I said that?" he says, peering at Rose. "That he's _better_ than that? When did I say–"

Rose snatches the mobile from his hand. "Hi, Jackie. I'll be there. Thanks, bye." She glares at the Doctor. "Don't talk to my mum about stuff!"

"I didn't! She's the one who said it was time for your nan to meet your boyfriend!"

Rose groans, hiding her face in her hands and then thrusting them out as she leans back in her chair. "I've told her we're not like that. Suppose she just can't understand that a man and a woman can be best mates. Don't think she's ever had a male friend she hasn't shagged."

He scrunches up his nose. "Don't tell me things like that. It's bad enough that she came on to me the first time we met!"

"She what?"

"Oh, you didn't know?"

"No! What–"

"Anywaay," he interrupts. "Your mother wanted me to– Well, you to– Well, that body you're inhabiting to come with you to have a dinner jacket fitted. I'll have you know that I have a whole wardrobe room full of appropriate attire, Rose Tyler. There's no need for me to have jackets fitted! Not that I'll be joining you to any wedding of any kind, mind you," he says, giving her a firm look.

"Not gonna force you! You really think I want my nan to pinch your cheeks and ask you why you've not married me and put me in the family way yet?"

"Ugh! She'd do that?" he asks, crinkling his nose.

"Mhm." She takes a bite of her last piece of bacon, humming as she chews. "How's it taste for you, then? With my mouth."

He shrugs, making a face. "Less."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not unpleasant, Rose. Just…less."

"This must be so awful for you. Doctor, I–" The mobile buzzes once more and, without thinking, Rose picks it up, growling into it. "What is it?!"

"No need to snap at me! It's ten to ten and I've not even heard that box of yours pop up yet! Get a move on! You better not be making up some alien excuse not to be here. Rose told me about that plasma storm, you know, and I'm not stupid. I know, all right."

"Yes, Jackie. We'll be there," Rose says and hangs up with a sigh. "You know what this means, right?" she asks the Doctor. "She'll keep ringing…"

"…which means we can't go back in time, 'cause she'd insert herself in our timeline," he fills in, placing his elbows on the table and resting his chin in his hands. "You know, you are free to find a gown for you, and one for your mother, in the wardrobe room."

"I know, but she wants the whole experience with shop girls waiting on her and chatting with other customers and talking someone out of buying a really ugly pair of shoes that doesn't go with that colour of hair and maybe catching the eye of some fit bloke and…" she trails off, taking in a deep breath and blowing it out through pursed lips. "You know, the works. Mum doesn't really get to shop in the posh places all too often."

"You are not seriously suggesting I go shopping with your mother?"

"C'mon, you know me better than anyone, yeah? Is there anybody better equipped to play me? I'll come with you, of course. I'm not leaving you alone with my mum." She snorts before taking a few gulps of her tea. "Really not. Just… I'll text her and say we'll be forty minutes late so we have time to shower and get dressed without her ringing. You go to my en suite and I'll go to yours. Oh, and remember deodorant, Doctor, yeah?"

He lifts up his arm, taking a few sniffs. "Oh, that. I will wash myself, of course."

"Deodorant," she repeats, pointing at him. "Don't care what you do in the TARDIS, but you're not wearing my body in public without deodorant."

He huffs. "Humans."

"Now, go on. Don't have all day. Oh, and come find me when you need help finding an outfit."

"I think I can manage, Rose."

"All right," she says, pressing her lips together as she tries not to smile. "And makeup?"

"Well, I remember a certain blond human sitting for me after my regeneration when I realised this body, well," he says, pointing at her. "That body, or well, this consciousness," he corrects himself, now gesturing at his head. "Could paint. Why wouldn't I be able to paint a face?"

"All right. Give it your best shot, then."

"Challenge accepted!"

*********

Rose checks her reflection, adjusting her tie and mussing up her hair until the brown locks are coaxed the way the Doctor prefers them to be. Sometimes it's good to have a hairdresser for a mum; fixing her hair took nearly no time at all. She walks out to the console room, hands in her pockets as she tries to emulate the Doctor's body language. Leaning against the console, she whips out his specs, puts them on and lowers her head so she can peer over the rim. She hums and raises her eyebrows, letting out an 'aaaaah' as she inspects the jump seat.

"What are you doing?" she hears the Doctor say, amused tone lacing his voice.

"I'm just pretending to-–" Her jaw drops as she sees him walk up to her. "Oh, my god! I look amazing!"

"I know!" he says and twirls, making the navy blue skirt of the modest, elegant dress he's wearing fan out. He smiles at her and tosses his head, soft curls bouncing around his face in a way she'd never be able to make them–not even with the help of her mum. "This dress fits this body perfectly," he says, running his hand down his torso.

"Oi! Mind the hands!"

He holds them up in the air. "Sorry!"

She can't help but stare at him, mouth still hanging open. His makeup is expertly applied: highlights and shadows laid to flatter her eye shape; colours that really work with her complexion; just the right amount of mascara; a lovely, fresh and pink glow to her cheeks; and eyebrows plucked to perfection. He couldn't have been gone for more than thirty minutes and it boggles her mind as to how he managed to make her body look like she wipes her mouth with tenners after eating gold leaves for supper.

"Wha'…?" she manages to get out, gesturing at him. "We're just going shopping. With my mum!"

He runs his fingers through his hair, fluffing it up as he reaches the ends. "Just…reckoned you'd want me to make you look good. You know, since I'm wearing your body in public in posh shops. I've seen _Pretty Woman_. I know how she's treated when–"

"What?" she interrupts, putting her hands on her hips. "Was scared the little chav wouldn't get treated right in the shops? You think I usually look awful, then?"

"Eeer. Oh. So, that's how that could be perceived. Eehm. No, no. You're young…and beautiful…and…" he stammers and Rose's face splits out in a wide grin. He rolls his eyes at her. "Oh, you know you're gorgeous, all right?"

Rose narrows her eyes, shooting him a dirty look. "That's _Clueless_."

"Is it? I thought it was rather right on the money, that."

"_Clueless_, the film. We watched it last night."

"Oh. Whoops?" he says and she notices that he at least has the decency to blush.

"You know what? I think I need to look better as well."

"Eeehm…"

"Just a mo!" she shouts over her shoulder, rushing towards her en suite.

Although she loves his sideburns, she decides to shave off them off; however, the time ship is one step ahead of her and Rose cackles to herself as she sees something already waiting for her on the sink.

"Oh, you're on my side, huh, old girl?" she asks, fondly patting the coral wall. "Thanks!"

A few minutes later, she strolls out into the console room, hands in her pockets as she whistles.

"What d'you think?"

The Doctor, who's sitting on the jump seat, dangling his legs, looks up at the sound of her voice. He lets out an inhuman noise, clutching his chest and staring at her in panic.

"My-my…!" he croaks. "What did you _do_?"

"Oh, this?" She rubs her bald head, trying her best not to give in to the laughter bubbling in her chest. "Reckoned it would make you look dignified. No one your age has sticky-uppy hair, Doctor."

"Sticky-uppy? _Sticky-uppy_?! Is that a hairdresser term you've learned from your mother?" he says, glaring at her. "Rose Tyler, can't believe you—"

Not able to hold it in any longer, she bursts into a fit of giggles, but it only seems to make him more upset. He huffs and jumps up on his feet, jabbing his finger at her as he opens his mouth to scold her. She lifts her hand up to her head, finding the small seam in the back and pulling off the bald cap she's wearing.

"Ta-daaaa!" she says, holding out her arms, flapping the cap around in the air.

He lets out a relieved guffaw. "An Scaliconian bald cap! Practically impossible to detect! Very clever!"

She bows. "Why, thank you!"

"Rose, you are evil. Nearly gave me a heart attack, you did."

"You should've seen your face!" she says, beginning to laugh again.

"Well, I thought you'd shaved off all of my hair!"

"Oh, god I'd never do that. I'm the one who has to look at you when all of this is over, after all."

"I could pull off being bald!"

"No." She shakes her head, stuffing the cap into her pocket. "You're a pretty man, Doctor, but no. Just no."

"You think I'm pretty?" he says, grinning smugly at her.

She walks up to him, acting a little shy, ruffling her hair. "You're old and beautiful," she says in a sultry tone, ducking her head a little but keeping their gazes locked. "Oh, you know you're gorgeous, all right?"

The Doctor doesn't play along, only takes her hand, sincere expression on his face. "Rose. I remember that's _Clueless_ now and I'm sorry. I think it lingered in my brain because it was one of the last things I heard before I fell asleep. But…" He hesitates for a second, looking down at their joined hands. "It doesn't make it less true. Doesn't matter if you're wearing jimjams; jeans and a hoodie; a Victorian evening gown; or…my body. You are."

"So are you," she says, voice breathy and quiet.

There's no smile on his lips, but the look in his eye is soft and he tugs her closer for a hug. Standing there with her arms around a body she was born into, filling her nose with the scent of her shampoo from the top of a blond head, instead of tucking hers under his chin and breathing in his sandalwood-and-old-books blend, she misses him so much that she can't help but feel sadness welling up within her. Seeking comfort in his warm embrace, she holds him tighter; though, she can't say if it helps or only serves to make things worse.

"Rose? Are you all right?"

"Yeah." She pulls back and meets his eye, managing a little smile she hopes is convincing. "Doctor…? Are you sure there's nothing to do? Can't you just… Dunno, use your frankly magnificent brain or something? Like make a connection and make the transfer?"

"I'm sorry, Rose. I don't have full control like this and this is not something where I can just improvise. The mind is a… Well, it's a delicate thing, really, and I could do a lot of damage, forcing the natural process. Our bodies will do the work in their own time."

She ducks her head. "Oh…"

"Hey," he says, placing two fingers under her chin and tilting her head up. "After we're done shopping with your mother, I can go inside my head again and check my chemical levels. I still haven't figured out how to manipulate your body, so I can only make a guess, but it's better than nothing, right?"

"Yeah… S'just… I really miss being us. This is so weird."

He gives her a sympathetic smile and pulls her in for another hug before turning to the console, pulling a few levers and pushing a button or two, quickly taking them to her mum's living room.

*********

Jackie paces the living room, mobile in hand, ready to phone Rose and the Doctor if that bloody box of his doesn't show up soon. Her thumb is on the call button just as the TARDIS begins to take shape right in front of her and she's banging on the door the second it's fully materialised.

"About bloody time! Where have you been? What on Earth could be so important that—" Her jaw drops and she draws in a deep breath, letting it out in a squeal as she sees her daughter exit the TARDIS. "Oh, Rose! You're beautiful!"

Rose grins, shooting the Doctor a smug glance. "Thanks mum. The Doctor styled me."

Jackie's eyebrows shoot up. "Did he, now! Maybe I should let you do me as well!"

"Eugh, don't phrase it like that," Rose says, crinkling her nose.

"You have a filthy mind, Rose," Jackie says, shaking her head at her daughter. "Well, let's go, then. We don't have all day!" She shoots the time ship a suspicious glance. "Don't suppose you can get us to the shops in that thing?"

"Uhm…" the Doctor says, for some reason looking questioningly at Rose, who shakes her head. "Nope! You know what a bad pilot I am. I'd probably land us in the middle of a department store on Mars in 2189 instead."

Rose glares at him. "First of all, you are an excellent pilot. There is no one in the entire multiverse that can steer that ship better than you. Secondly, there were no department stores on Mars in 2189!" She rolls her eyes and snorts. "Mars' first shop didn't—"

The Doctor interrupts her by loudly clearing his throat and the two exchange a strange sort of look.

"Aaaaanyway," Rose says. "I brought your credit card, _Doctor_, in case of an emergency. We can take a taxi."

"You did? That's sweet of you," the Doctor says, smiling. "Didn't know I had a credit card!"

"No? You worked at UNIT, remember? Never touched that salary and still have that bank account. Comes in handy now and then."

The Doctor puts his hands on his hips, raising his eyebrows. "So that's why you always pay for the chips, then? 'Cause I'm just a tightwad?"

"Well, you keep forgetting you have it!"

"Oh, right. Weeell," the Doctor says, grinning at Rose with his tongue caught between his teeth. "I am pretty old. Must be going senile."

Jackie narrows her eyes at them. "You're acting weird, the both of you. What's going on?"

"Nothing!" they say simultaneously.

Jackie drops it for now but, knowing what kind of trouble they so easily get themselves into, decides to keep an eye on them. She's not going to let those two nitwits keep this day from being fun and productive!

*********

"Here we are, then," Jackie says as a black taxi pulls up in front of them. She gets inside and, to her surprise, sees the Doctor choose the seat beside her whilst Rose takes the one opposite them.

"Ooh! A Hackney carriage!" Rose says, beaming and bouncing a little in her pull down seat. "Don't think I've ever been in one of those."

"What are you on about? You've must've been in one dozens of times," Jackie says.

"Oh, right. No. No, no. The Doctor!" Rose says, tugging at her ear. "I meant the Doctor. Yep. He's never been in one, I reckon. Right? At least not for centuries!"

"Uhm… No? Wooow," the Doctor says, patting the empty seat next to him. "Brilliant!"

Jackie considers them for a second before dismissing their strange antics with a shrug. "So, what have you been up to lately?" she asks.

The Doctor smiles at her. "A few weeks ago, we were at this ball, yeah, and—"

"I wasn't asking you, you daft alien! I was asking Rose."

"Oh!" Rose blinks sheepishly at her. "Ehm, weeell… You know, stuff. Just regular time-and-space stuff. Saving the day, looking at…things."

"Things? What kind of things?"

Rose breathes in deeply, raising her eyebrows and staring at Jackie. "Brilliant things! Ehm… There was this-this…" She looks at the Doctor, doing a circular motion with her hand.

"Yeah, uhm, this… We had pie! Some-sort-of-berry pie! Was gorgeous, it was!"

"Ah, yes!" Rose says, pointing her finger in the air. "Yobbbbolo berries! And that's four b's, in case you were wondering."

"Not really," says Jackie. She leans over the space between them to get closer to Rose. "Think he's starting to rub off on ya."

"Yeeeeah." Rose chuckles. "But he's brilliant, isn't he? Could do a lot worse, I could," she says and sniffs, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"If you say so," Jackie says, sitting up straight again.

"Mickey, for instance! Wouldn't wanna—"

The Doctor points at Rose. "Oi! Be nice!"

"What? You're a step up from Mickey, though, you gotta give me that, at least," Rose says.

"What d'you mean, 'a step up from Mickey'? Make it sound like you're my new bloke, you are," the Doctor says. He clears his throat, sticking his chest out and tilting his chin down. "I mean… What's, uhm, what do humans call the, uhm, the non-bloke? The, uhm, the girlfriend?" he asks, voice a bit rougher now.

"Bird!" Rose chirps. "Right? Right?" She nods emphatically, waggling her eyebrows like a loon. "Bird!"

Jackie rolls her eyes, shaking her head at them. "Tell me about that ball, then."

"Right." Rose frowns for a few seconds. "Well… Oh! The women all had very pretty dresses, yeah. And the blokes were really fit, yeah. And the nibbles were brilliant! Yeah. Aaand… I danced! With the Doctor, yeah, and an ambassador, yeah, but the Doctor was a lot better, yeah. He's a_brilliant_ dancer, yeah, and— Ow!" she says, glaring at the Doctor. "Why did you kick me?"

"Yeah!" the Doctor says, shooting her a dirty look. "Yeah-yeah-yeah!"

Jackie holds her hand up, really close to the Doctor's cheek. "Kick my daughter again and I'll slap you right out of the taxi!"

"Sorry," the Doctor mumbles, pouting and staring out the window.

"And that's supposed to be a proper apology, is it? Is that how you did it on the Time Lord planet?"

"Gallifrey," Rose says. "It's not called the Time Lo—"

"Now, go on!" Jackie says, giving the Doctor a firm look.

The Doctor squares his jaw in a rather petulant manner. "I'm sorry I kicked you," he mumbles, looking furtively at Rose.

Rose beams at him. "It's all right! Barely felt a thing!"

"Really." The Doctor folds his arms over his chest. "Weren't you complaining just the other day about that fragile, human body? It's a wonder you're not crying right now, begging me to kiss it better."

"Hmph! I never cry! And I certainly don't ask anyone to kiss anything!"

The Doctor snorts. "Yeah, so when we watched _Lilo & Stitch_ the other week, it was just allergic reaction, then? Had something in your eye?"

Rose opens her mouth as she draws in a deep breath, looking as though she's going to tell that alien a few things, but Jackie interrupts her with a heavy sigh and says, "Oh, lord. You're a right pair of nutters, aren't you?" She leans forward a little, looking at the driver through the rear-view mirror. "Oi! Are we there yet?"

"Five more minutes, miss," he calls over his shoulder.

"Cheers!" She turns to Rose. "I'm glad you found each other, you know, 'cause I can't imagine anyone else putting up with either of you. And please tell me you're not thinking about children yet. Lord knows you're not ready for it," she says, putting her hands up in the air, feeling exasperated by just the _thought_ of it. "The two of you and a toddler? Visiting in my little flat? Would drive me barmy, it would. Not saying I don't want grandchildren one day, but you should wait at least a couple of years," she says, nodding at her wise words.

The Doctor huffs. "How many times do I have to tell you? We're not a couple! I don't understand why everyone always assumes we're a couple!"

Rose shifts uncomfortably in her seat, looking out the window; Jackie narrows her eyes, letting them flit back and forth between her daughter and her alien. Their reactions are usually the other way around, with her daughter protesting too much whilst the Doctor seems as though he'd like to be elsewhere. Feeling worried, she searches her daughter's face, but she keeps her gaze averted.

"Rose, sweetheart, are you all right? You didn't… You've not ended it, have you?" She turns to the Doctor, boring her eyes into him. "Did you hurt my little girl? Was there another Fre—"

The Doctor starts coughing, clearly trying to make her stop talking about French mistresses, which only makes Jackie more sure that she's onto something. She helpfully pats his back, but she's not letting him get away and opens her mouth to finish her sentence.

"No, mum," Rose says before she's gotten a word out, finally meeting her eye with a small smile. "Everything is fine between the Doctor and I. Right, Doctor?"

"Yeah. S'all right. Everything is great," he says, just as the taxi pulls to a stop.

"Oh, thank god," Jackie breathes out.

*********

Jackie tries on a pair of turquoise strappy heels, tilting her feet to one side and then the other, narrowing her eyes as she tries to decide if they are better than the last pair. Rose sits next to her, watching the Doctor browse a rack of dresses; he runs his fingers over the different materials, sometimes holding out a dress in front of him, considering it with a thoughtful hum before putting it back. Jackie nudges her daughter in the side with her elbow to get her attention.

"Hm?"

"Is he always like that? Helping you shop."

"What? Oh. Nah. He's just… Ehm," she says, tugging at her ear. "He's just trying to give us some time together, I reckon."

"That's sweet. How about them shoes, then?"

"Hmm… I think you should go for a more delicate pair."

"Really?"

"Yep! Those perhaps," she says, pointing at one of the countless pairs one of the shopgirls brought them. "You didn't try on those yet."

"Aren't those a little boring?" Jackie asks, running her finger over the rhinestone flower attached to one of the straps of the shoes she's wearing. "I like a little frou-frou, Rose, you know that."

She makes an amused noise in the back of her throat. "Yeah, I gathered. Those have an understated elegance, though. Perfect for the occasion. Try them on, at least, hm?"

"Suppose…" Jackie looks up at the Doctor, smiling as she sees him holding a dark blue dress against his body, as though he's considering it for himself. She's just about to comment on it to her daughter, when the Doctor walks up to them, slight sway to his hips Jackie hasn't noticed until now.

"Look!" he says. "It's TARDIS blue!"

"Well, close enough," Rose says.

"Isn't it gorgeous, though? Just need the perfect pair of shoes to go with them. Hold on. I'll go get a couple so you can try it all on," he says, drops the dress in Rose's lap and twirls around, walking over the a shoe shelf by the window and talking with one of the shopgirls.

"Oooooh," says Jackie, eyes round as she turns to her daughter. "That explains it. He's a poofter!"

"A what?"

"Did he just realise? Is that why it's a bit…" She gestures vaguely. "_Off_ between you right now? Was it the regeneration, then? Just changed everything? Even that? Must've been quite a shock for him, poor man. And for you." Jackie pulls Rose in for a hug. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I know how—"

Rose scoots away from her. "Honestly, _mum_. That is such a 21st century human assumption to make!" She sniffs, running her fingers through her hair.

"Well, I've not found myself an old alien to whisk me around the universe, have I? Still just a regular 21st century human, I am, and that's good enough for me! Besides, look at him," Jackie says, watching the Doctor choose between the three pairs of heels the shopgirl returned with.

"He's just trying to help. And he has _excellent_ taste, you know."

"Oooh, he likes dressing you up! That it? Likes making you pretty for him. Been with a couple of blokes like that."

"No," Rose says. "Doesn't matter what she wears. Even when she's covered in slime or hasn't slept for thirty hours and all her mascara has dropped down and she's looking like a raccoon or…" She trails off, looking thoughtfully at the Doctor for a moment. "Or when she's in something old and broken, she's still beautiful," she says, sounding as though she's drifted off into her own little world.

"She?"

"Hm?" Rose shakes her head, blinking a few times. "Ah. Ehm. Yes. Well, _me_. That's what he said about me. Earlier today."

"He did? Oh, how that man adores you, Rose! I know I'm hard on him sometimes, but you know I love him, right? He makes you so happy, sweetheart," Jackie says, stroking her daughter's cheek and smiling tenderly at her. "I'm glad you—"

"Ready?" the Doctor interrupts her, suddenly standing before them.

"Right!" Rose instantly gets up on her feet, slinging the dress over her shoulder, looking slightly flustered. "Dressing room?!"

"Yeah. I'll come with you."

Jackie stands up as well, giving them firm looks and saying in a hushed tone, "No messing about, though! This is a posh place."

The Doctor rolls his eyes. "'Course not."

Rose sputters for a few seconds, eyes round as she stares at her mum. "Why would we do something like that? C'mon!" She grabs the Doctor's hand and tugs him with her.

Jackie waves at the shopgirl to get a couple of dresses in her size and chooses the empty dressing room next to the one her daughter is using. She hangs up the garments on the hooks on the walls and starts to undress, kicking off her shoes and shimmying out of her skirt. She's just about to fold her blouse and put it on a stool when she hears Rose and the Doctor's voices, only slightly muffled by the thin wall separating them. It wasn't her intention to eavesdrop, but now she just can't help herself.

"I think braless would be better in this, yeah?" the Doctor says.

"Right. Help me take it off? I'm still not… It's hard with the…"

"Yeah. Just tug that down and turn around," the Doctor says and Jackie hears the sound of fabric sliding against skin.

"Better?"

"No… Ugh."

"What? Is it the— Oh. Are you feeling all right?" Rose asks, sounding concerned.

"I'm fine. S'just… I'm just a bit tired, yeah? It's…"

"Do you have a headache?"

"No, no I'm fine," says the Doctor.

"You'll tell me if you're not, right? I'm not… Ehm, I mean, usually I'm a bit more perceptive. Right now I can't…"

"I know. S'okay. I'll tell you if I need to rest, all right?"

"Promise? We talked about this. I don't want you to feel like you have to hide things from me."

"I don't. Honestly. Not from you. You're…" he trails off and they're quiet for a while.

There are no kissing noises as far as Jackie can tell but, since she can hear them moving and the sound of clothes rustling, she assumes there's a hug.

"That scene in _Lilo & Stitch_ was very sad," Rose says.

"I know," the Doctor softly replies.

"But I wasn't crying. I was just a bit… _moved_."

"I know. I…" The Doctor sighs. "I'm sorry for teasing you. Anyway, uhm, the cleavage looks all flat, yeah? You need to, like… Oi! Hands!" he says and, by the sound of it, swats Rose's hands away. "I'll do it."

"Thought Jackie said we had to behave," Rose says and Jackie can almost hear her waggling her eyebrows. "Copping quite a feel there, aren't you?"

"Shut up. Those are mine anyway."

"Not right now, they're not," Rose says in a teasing tone.

"Yeah, they are. They're always mine."

"'Not a couple', my bum," Jackie mumbles under her breath.

"'Kay. There. That looks good, right?" the Doctor says.

"What? Am I allowed to look at _your_ breasts, then?"

There's a loud sigh.

"Just… Does it look good?" the Doctor asks.

"Yes. Beautiful."

"Thank you. Or…" The Doctor makes an amused sound. "I think? Is it weird of me to say thank you?"

_Yes_, Jackie thinks and gives up any attempt of trying on her dress, shamelessly pressing her ear against the wall instead. _Yes, it's weird, you alien nutter._

"No, suppose not," Rose says. "But it's… It is. It's beautiful, R—"

"Don't use my real name!" the Doctor hisses and Jackie nearly let's out an 'aha!'. She _knew_ he wasn't really named the Doctor. She just knew it! Sneaky, pompous alien. "What if Jackie hears!"

"Right! Oops? Eehm. Well, _Doctor_. I think this is the right dress for me. Gonna turn a few heads, I gather."

"Yeah?"

"Yes," Rose says. "Reckon someone's dance card will be full rather quickly."

Jackie rolls her eyes. Granted, her daughter is beautiful and confidence is a good thing, but it sure sounds as though someone could do with a couple of slices of humble pie.

"'Dance card'? We're not living in the 18 hundreds, _Rose_." The Doctor giggles. "So… Is, uhm, is-is _Rose_, well… Is she going to this thing alone, then? I mean, since… Well, if-if she would have someone to come with her, uhm, wouldn't her dance card be full already?"

"Aaaaw," Jackie says with a smile and, as she realises it came out fairly loudly, gasps, clamping her hand over her mouth.

"M-Jackie? Are you eavesdropping?" the Doctor asks, sounding annoyed.

"Who? Me? Nooo, I was just… Admiring myself in the mirror," she calls out.

Rose chuckles. "Weeell, that does sound like something she'd do."

"Oi! You should talk! Little miss 'gonna-turn-a-few-heads'!"

"Is everything fine in there, miss?" she hears the shopgirl and the Doctor and Rose giggle in their booth.

"Yes," Jackie replies, quickly slipping into one of the dresses.

"Very well. Let me know if you need help."

"Yeah, cheers," she says, checking the fit and pushing up her breasts a little. "Oi, you two lovebirds. Can I get a second opinion?"

"Are you decent?" Rose asks.

"'Course I am. Come in here."

The door to her dressing room opens and the Doctor lets out a gasp as he sees her. "Oh, you look lovely!"

Jackie beams at him. "Really?" she chirps, doing a twirl.

"Yeah! Wow. You look perfect, m— Ahem. And the shoes are gorgeous!"

"Ha! Told you, didn't I?" Rose turns to the Doctor. "She wanted something with a lot of… Bling?" she says, over-enunciating the word and looking very silly doing it. "Or is it bling-bling?" she asks, looking at the Doctor.

"You're really off your rocker today, Rose. You sure you're feeling all right?"

Rose rolls her eyes. "Yes, _mum_."

"We were out last night. Got properly pissed, we did. She's still hungover. You know how she gets," the Doctor says, grinning.

"Ooooh. Do I ever! Could never tell by the looks of you, though. And you look great in that," Jackie says, nodding at the dress her daughter is wearing. "Works perfectly with that necklace, it does. You should buy that and the shoes. Maybe a little clutch as well, yeah? Saw a silver one earlier that would be perfect. Your nan's paying, so don't worry about money."

"No, that's all right. I've got it." Rose pulls out the Doctor's credit card. "I'll get yours, too."

"Oh? And you're all right with this?" Jackie asks the Doctor.

"Uuhm…" He looks at Rose, who smiles tenderly at him. "Yep! Just splash out, Jackie Tyler! The least I can do for kidnapping your daughter."

"Oi!" Rose says, frowning at him. "You asked very nicely. Twice. No! Three times, now, and I came along willingly. Ran straight into the TARDIS, I did! Never even looked back. Besides—"

"Oh, don't start!" Jackie shakes her head, waving her hands at them in a shooing motion. "Go change so we can buy this, all right? And then we'll get something to eat. Been shopping for hours, we have. I'm bloody starving!"


	4. Discovery

Rose groans and puts down the tray she's holding, leaning against the counter where they've just paid for their food. The smell of curry hits her nose, mingling with all the other scents at the food court: pizza and pasta; spring rolls and dumplings; burgers and chips; human sweat and flatulence; nappies and milky vomit; perfume–god, so much _perfume_–and deodorant; fizzy drinks and milkshakes; cigarette smoke seeped into hair and skin; fur from dogs, cats and horses, clinging to people's clothing…

"Stop it," she mutters to herself, forcing herself to stop trying to identify every little odour.

"What is it?" the Doctor says, lightly touching her on her back.

"So many smells."

"That's it. We're leaving."

"No, I'm hungry. And mum…" She casts a glance at Jackie, who's already found them a table. "Mum's having such a good time."

"Maybe we should tell your mother the truth, Rose. I'll-I'll take the slaps," he says, rubbing soothing circles across her shoulder blades.

"No. Imagine how humiliated she'd feel when she realises she's been chatting with _you_ all day. Can just imagine all the things she's said. God. We really didn't think this through, did we?"

The Doctor furrows his brow. "You've not...heard?"

"No, it's all…" She turns to him and gestures around her head, shaking it lightly. "It's _so much_ and it's getting harder picking out specific sounds. Like, when we first got here, I could. I heard all of it–separately, I mean–but now? Unless someone talks to me directly or I really focus, yeah, it's all a jumbled mess."

"Oh." He reaches up and cups her cheek, looking into her eyes, concerned expression on his face. "You have to tell me if it becomes too much."

"I know. I can handle it. It's just...background noise. But the smells…" She grimaces and shudders. "I'll get used to it soon, yeah? Like before."

"Hm... Do you have a headache?" he asks, fingertips brushing her temple.

"No, just a bit tired and hungry. I'm really hungry, Doctor," she says, looking down at the plate of food on her tray. "Can we please just eat?"

"Sure. You need energy. We'll eat, but then we're heading home and you're going straight to bed to rest. Doctor's orders," he says, giving her a stern look and pointing at her.

"Yeah, all right."

"C'mere," he says, pulling her in for a hug.

The man at the counter loudly clears his throat, nodding at them to move along. Rose gives him an apologetic smile and turns around to follow the Doctor, who's already on his way to the table. She focuses on her breathing, willing it to be slow and steady as she walks. Her mum beams at them as they settle down and immediately begins to talk about a bloke who caught her eye and how they've been giving each other flirty looks. Quickly shoveling food into her mouth, Rose tries to listen to her mum but, although she sees Jackie's mouth moving and is aware of sound coming out of it, she can't understand a single word. Luckily, her mum doesn't pay her much attention and the Doctor is playing his part, nodding and humming, letting Jackie prattle on.

Rose is scraping up the last of her curry when a group of teenagers sit down at the table next to theirs, smelling as though they poured several canisters of deodorant spray over their bodies. One of the blokes, clearly the leader of them, is tickling one of the girls, grinning as she shrieks with laughter. Two girls are huddled over a mobile, playing music loudly and singing along, dancing in their seats. The rest of them are talking, joking and roaring with laughter, seemingly not bothered with being considerate of others.

It's making her head swim; she places her elbow on the table, leaning her forehead against her hand, groaning as she feels nausea hit her. Her blood is rushing in her ears and her hearts thump hard in her chest, making her feel so weak in the knees she's certain that she would've sagged down had she not already been seated. The world starts fading away, blackness creeping into her peripheral vision, slowly covering her eyes. Her chest is full of air she doesn't remember how to exhale, and there's no room for more. Panic floods her system and she yanks at her tie, trying to get rid of the strangling feeling around her neck, needing oxygen and space, legs shaking with the urge to run away.

"Focus on my voice," the Doctor murmurs into her ear, just as she's about to get up on her feet and flee. "You have a respiratory bypass system. You don't need to breathe. Relax. Let this body take care of you." He runs his fingers up and down her spine, rubbing circles every time he reaches the nape of her neck. "I've got you. Jackie and I've got you. We're taking you home, to the TARDIS. She'll help you."

She scrambles for his hand, clinging to it so tightly she hears him whimper, but she can't soften her grip just yet–nor tell him she's sorry. The only thing she can do is let herself be led out of the shopping centre and into the taxi. She leans her head on the Doctor's shoulder, seeking comfort in his soft touches, the familiar smell that really is hers, and his quiet words. He's not saying anything important, only rambling on about one thing or another, keeping her grounded. She knows her mum is sitting opposite her, trying her best not to impose, letting who she thinks is her daughter comfort who she thinks is the Doctor–and that is probably for the best. A hysterical Jackie is the last thing Rose needs right now.

* * *

Jackie and her daughter lead the Doctor through the hallways to his bedroom, his arms wrapped around their shoulders as he stumbles forward between them. The TARDIS seems to help them; the door opens on its own and the lamps on his nightstands automatically turn on, casting the large room in a dim light. They help him to lie down on the bed and he rolls over on his side, curling up and snuggling into his pillow. Rose pulls a blanket over him and lies down beside him, running her fingers up and down his back, murmuring something Jackie can't discern. She kneels down by the bed, lightly touching Rose on the arm.

"Rose, sweetheart. Is there something I can do? Think he needs a cuppa? Worked last time, it did. Cuppa tea? And some biscuits? Or jam. I know he loves his jam. Or was it marmalade? Shall I go into the kitchen? Bring you a tray with a few treats? Does he have any normal stuff, though? Maybe I should go to my kitchen…? If I find my way… Blimey! I don't know if I can find my way!"

"No. Fruit juice. _I_ could do with a cuppa, though. And something sweet. Oh, and the TARDIS will help you. Just follow the path she sets out for you," she says, still focused on the Doctor.

Jackie strokes her hair. "You're so good to him. He's lucky to have you."

"Yes. He is," Rose whispers, leaning her forehead against his back.

"I'll be right back, sweetheart."

"Thanks, mum," the Doctor mumbles.

"He's far gone, isn't he!?" Jackie says with a shake of her head. "See you in a bit."

She walks out to the hallway and, although it previously seemed long at both directions and had several doors, there's now only one option for her: walking straight ahead. She lets out a nervous laugh and does what the time ship seems to want. Five minutes later she finds a large, knob-less metal door with the word 'galley' engraved in large block letters. There's a round button on the wall next to it, so she pushes it and walks into the room as the door slides open.

"Ooh," she breathes out, looking around the galley.

It's spacious and looks meticulously clean–which surprises her since her daughter is a right slob and the Doctor seems as though he's never used a dish cloth in his life. He's spent many hours in her flat and he's never helped her in the kitchen! Bloody, useless alien. Jackie shakes her head, fills an electric kettle with water and walks over to the cupboard as she waits for the water to boil. She stares at the shelves in front of her for a long time, distracted by all the colourful boxes and jars of unfamiliar brands, before she starts rummaging through it in search for something she recognises.

"Finally!" she says, pulling out a few packs of Jammie Dodgers from behind several jars of fuschia pink jam.

She finds a tray in one of the kitchen drawers and starts filling it with biscuits, tea cups and a bottle of orange juice she found in the fridge. The kettle is, to her surprise, still not ready, so she sits down and waits, eyes flitting over her strange surroundings. It's the first time she's ventured beyond the console room and she realises that the time ship is very much like its pilot. On the surface, everything looks completely normal–there's a stove and an oven; a fridge and a freezer; there's a toaster, a coffee maker and a few herb pots on the counter–but when one begins to really look… There are several things reminding her that she's in an alien spacecraft–some appliances look familiar but far too futuristic to be from any century she's lived in; others she can't begin to imagine the use of–but the thing that really makes her feel slightly unsettled is the large, naked window on the wall behind her.

Although they are currently parked in her living room, the window presents her with a view of a gorgeous landscape. It reminds her of the scenery from Italian films–rolling hills, white villas, and cypresses–and looks so real, she's sure that if she were to open it, she'd feel the wind in her hair and be encompassed by the smell of flowers.

"She, ehm…" she hears Rose say, so she turns her attention from the view. Her daughter sits at the table opposite her; she's slipped into a pair of jimjams and her face is scrubbed clean, hair gathered into a ponytail. "He fell asleep. Reckon we should take our tea in here. He needs quiet."

"What happened? Was it the hangover?"

"Yep! Mhm. The hangover made him more sensitive for, ehm, well…" She rubs her neck with one hand, grabbing a couple of biscuits with the other. "Sensory input."

"Does that happen often?"

"No."

"But, seemed like you knew exactly what to do!"

Rose shrugs, chewing on her treat. "Well, learned a few things, I suppose."

"I'm proud of you, sweetheart!"

"Yeah, thanks," Rose says with a tired smile.

"Is that kettle broken? S'been ages since I turned it on. Thought you'd have some posh appliances from the future that could make water boil in a couple of seconds, or something."

"Hm? Oh." Rose chuckles and stands up, walking over to the counter. "The child safety is on. Hold on." She flips a switch and a red light turns on. "There you go. Should be done in twenty seconds."

She walks to the cupboard, takes out one of the jam jars and leans against the kitchen counter, unscrewing the lid and sticking a finger into the pink goo.

"That's a nasty habit, Rose, and you know it. Don't need to do everything he does, do you?"

"Ehm," she says around the finger she just stuck into her mouth. "What if I eat it with a spoon?"

"Oh, do as you like. Suppose you're an adult now." She frowns at the jam jar and lets out a snort. "In some ways, at least." Her eyes drift over to the tray of Jammie Dodgers on the table; she sighs. "Prentice women eat when we're worried, though… You know, I think I have some fabric that would go great with the colours in here. I could sew you some curtains! Never liked a naked window… Could do with some flowers, as well."

"What? Eugh. No ta!" she says, crinkling her nose. "I mean, eeer, the Doctor wouldn't like that."

Jackie holds up her hands, eyes round and eyebrows raised. "All right, all right," she says and gets up to prepare their tea.

"Besides, if he ever wanted curtains, he'd make them himself. No need for you to muck about and make things domestic."

"He can sew?"

"Of course he can sew! You pick up a thing or two, living that long."

Jackie smiles at her as she sits down at the table again, cuppa in hand. "Like styling young women?"

"Actually, he had a theatre phase. Mostly Shakespeare. Learned a lot about costumes, makeup and that sort of thing. He's played both Benedick and Beatrice. Not at the same time, though. Although…" She narrows her eyes, staring into open space. "That could be interesting. And I bet he'd do it brilliantly. Mind you, the kissing could become awkward. Maybe…" she trails off, seemingly lost in thought.

Jackie breaks a biscuit in two and quickly eats one of the parts before shrugging and stuffing the second into her mouth. "Speaking of. I saw you in the food court, you know."

Rose shakes her head as though she's breaking out of her musings, her previously glazed over eyes turning sharp. "What do you mean, 'speaking of'? We weren't kissing!"

"Just as well could've been. You spend all your time together in this old box, doing I don't even wanna know what," Jackie says, making a dismissive hand gesture. "And still you need to take a break in the queue for a cuddle. Always holding hands… S'like you can't stop touching each other! I–" She inhales deeply, expelling the breath with a sigh. "You don't know how lucky you are, Rose. Wish I could have something like that again."

"That's not…" Rose instantly looks very interested in the contents of the jar.

"Rose, sit down at the table."

Rose pushes herself off the counter and saunters over to the chair she sat on earlier, plopping down and putting her stocking feet on the empty seat next to her, fingers deeply buried in the jam jar.

"You used to talk to me about this, but with him…" Jackie shakes her head, slowly stirring her tea with a spoon. "Why don't you wanna talk to me? You're not letting me in anymore. I miss that, Rose. I really do. I want to know what's going on in your life. I'm your mum!"

Rose puts down the jar and sighs as she shifts around, placing her her feet on the floor and leaning back in her chair. "We're not a couple."

"Oh, come off it! That man is arse over elbow for you, and don't tell me you don't feel the same. I've never seen a man be so completely…" She frowns and rests the rim of her cup against her bottom lip, staring out into the open as she thinks back on their day. "Not today, though. Usually, he follows you with his eyes wherever you go, but not today. And he's not looked at you the same way. Did something happen, sweetheart? You can tell me," she says, eyes returning to her daughter.

Rose sits stiffly, staring at Jackie, lips slightly parted and a Jammie Dodger half way into her mouth. There's something strange in her eyes, something old and haunted. Alien. Jackie shivers.

"You've even started to look like him," she whispers, rubbing her arms with her hands in an effort to get rid of the gooseflesh. "You're not my little girl anymore, are you?"

"No."

Rose puts the biscuit into her mouth and immediately reaches for another one. Jackie follows her movement with her eyes, staring at the thin white edge on Rose's nails.

"Did you stop biting your fingernails?"

"Eeehm…"

Rose looks at her hand and then runs it over the top of her head and down the back of her neck, rubbing at the skin there–and it just _clicks_ for Jackie. She quickly takes a few sips of her tea, hiding her reaction behind the cup.

"Why are you not a couple, then?"

The Doctor raises his eyebrows. "Hm?"

"Who's holding back? Him, right?" she says, but he doesn't comment. "Has he told you why? Suppose you don't talk about those things. He's like that, isn't he? Never says the things that matter, does he?" she says, looking calmly at the Doctor as she waits for him to reply.

He's quiet for a long moment, arms crossed over his chest and eyes directed at the tray of biscuits. "I thought you'd rather see me with someone like Mickey."

"Oh, believe me. I'd love for you to settle down, but that's not what you want, is it?"

"I can never live a human life, Jackie. Whether I want to or not is futile. I won't marry your daughter; I won't give you grandchildren. That's never going to happen," he says and she gasps as she realises she's been found out, feeling the hairs of her neck rising as he bores his eyes into hers. "Really, Jackie? I'm very, very old, and very, very clever. I might not be in my right body, but that doesn't mean I can't tell when someone's trying to manipulate me."

"I'm sorry, I–"

"It's all right," he says, expression softening. "You're a good mother. I know you're only trying to look out for Rose."

"Thank you," she says, feeling her cheeks heat up. "It's not permanent, is it? Is it like _Freaky Friday_? You have to learn a lesson to change back?"

He gives her a look that's bordering on fond, chuckling a little. "No. No, it's not like _Freaky Friday_. We have a little over a week left, and then we'll be back to our usual selves."

"How long have you been like this, then?"

He inhales deeply, breathing it out in an 'oh'. "A few days."

"Is Rose going to be all right?"

"Yes. She just needs rest. And we won't go outside the TARDIS again until this whole thing is over. Don't worry. We shouldn't have gone today. I should've known better," he says with a sigh, rubbing his eyes. "It's just… She handles everything so well and she never complains. Never shows how tired she must be and I don't always know. You've raised one hell of a daughter, Jackie. She's tough."

"Yeah…" Jackie says, the corners of her mouth twitching.

"What?"

"Well… You're really not a couple?"

"No."

"And you've never…" She makes a suggestive gesture with her fingers.

"What?! No!" he squeaks.

"Oh, lord," she says and starts laughing so hard tears form in her eyes. She slaps the table, feeling a few tears spill over and roll down her cheeks as she continues to expel guffaw after guffaw.

The Doctor scrunches up his face, looking very displeased. "What?!"

"Oh, dunno," she says, clutching her stomach as she continues to giggle. She can't help but conjure up the most embarrassing scenarios in her head–mostly involving Rose's reactions to having, not just a penis, but _the Doctor's_ penis, and a lot of other things that most likely must've taken place since the swap–but, suspecting the Doctor wouldn't appreciate her humour, she dismisses him by waving her hand. "Now that I know, I'll just go back to my flat. Reckon you don't much fancy spending time with me." She pauses to give him a chance to protest. He doesn't. "Can I just check on her before I go?"

"Of course," he says and they stand up but, as she begins to move, he hesitates.

"What?"

"You're not going to slap me, are you?"

"Not whilst you're wearing my daughter's body, I'm not."

He grins at her and makes an amused sound through his nose. "Fair enough."

"C'mon, now, you daft alien. Let's check on Rose," she says and they head out of the galley, into the corridor outside. "And how are you doing, then? Coping with all this. I know how you feel about us apes."

"That's not… I don't-I don't consider you _apes_. But…" He inhales deeply through his nose and exhales slowly through his mouth, cheeks puffed up. "It's an adjustment. Never been more tired in my life. Consistently, I mean. And I feel…" He gestures around his chest. "Empty. I miss my heart. I miss…" He sighs. "Oh, I miss a lot of things."

"How did it happen?"

"In prison. It was a safety measure on their part, and it's supposed to last until they reach a verdict. We had to escape like this. I was…" He chuckles, shaking his head and looking down at their feet as they walk. "Rose had to carry me the last bit."

"Really? Is that how you usually do it, then?"

"No. Like I said: she's tough. And I'm not used to…" he trails off with a shrug.

"Mm, so it _is_ kinda like _Freaky Friday_, then, innit?" she says, nodding sagely.

He peers curiously at her. "I suppose." He stops as they reach his bedroom door, holding the handle but not opening it. "She needs quiet. You can touch her, but don't speak. The TARDIS helps her recuperate, but any unnecessary sensory input makes it harder for her to recharge."

"Except touch."

"Yes. Touch from someone she trusts will have a calming effect. She'll recognise her mother's touch, although she's sleeping. Most humanoid species do," he says with a soft smile, but it slips and his expression turns wistful. "Well…if you have those kinds of parents," he mumbles, head ducked.

She cups his cheek and tilts his head up so she can look him in the eye. "You're a good bloke, you are. A bit peculiar–and very daft," she adds and he chuckles. "But a _good_ bloke. Maybe you won't give me grandchildren or marry my daughter, but you're still my son-in-law–whether you like it or not."

He scrunches up his face and makes a disgusted noise, but the look in his eyes tells her that it's just for show.

She gives his cheek a soft pat. "Welcome to the family, Doctor. Now, stop yapping and let me into the bleeding room, so I can check on my daughter and go back to my flat and put on my new shoes and watch some telly!" 

* * *

Rose starts awake by a loud growling sound and instantly sits up in bed, ready to resort to fisticuffs on whatever it is that's threatening her, blinking a little as the lights brighten.

"That was your stomach," the Doctor says and giggles.

"Oh." She lets her hands drop to her lap. "Yeah, I'm starving! But we just ate."

"No," he says softly. "You've slept through the night. It's morning."

"Really?"

"Yep!"

"Blimey! No wonder it feels like there's a thunder storm in my stomach."

He giggles, beaming at her in a way that makes her hearts flutter. "I promised your mother we'd join her for breakfast. She's been worried about you."

"Really? She's taken a shine to you, huh?" she says, waggling her eyebrows.

"No, Rose. She's been worried about _you_," he says, touching her arm for emphasis.

"Doctor! You told her?!"

"No, she figured it out on her own. Your mother isn't quite as thick as one would assume."

"Oh, my god. Did she slap you?"

"No," he says, thoughtfully rubbing his jaw. "She welcomed me into the family, actually."

"She what? But we're not…"

"I know. And I told her that, but apparently I'm her son-in-law anyway."

"Well, yeah. Told ya," she says, grinning with her tongue poking out between her teeth. "I've signed up. You're stuck with me and you're the closest thing to a son-in-law she'll ever have. Reckon she's starting to realise. Trying to make the best of it, I suppose."

He looks at her for a few seconds, something she can't quite interpret flashing in his eyes, and she's afraid she's overstepped their boundaries. Everything has been so different since the swap, their carefully drawn lines slowly smudging out for each passing day, and perhaps she's starting to become a little too comfortable for him to be at ease.

"How was your night?" she quickly asks, picking at her nails.

"Well…" He looks down at his body; it's covered by jimjams and the duvet. "I slept in here with you. I hope… Well…" He rubs his neck, gaze averted.

She takes his other hand, brushing her thumb over his knuckles. "It's okay."

"I would've asked you, but…" He turns to face her and splits into a wide grin. "You were snoring so peacefully."

"Not my fault! It's _your_ body."

"You do snore either way, Rose. You've fallen asleep in my presence quite a few times. You snore and you _drool_," he says, over-enunciating the last word and raising his eyebrows, eyes sparkling.

"You fart in your sleep, though, so…" she says, grinning at him and poking his arm.

"Do not!"

"Yeah, you do. Did in your old body as well. I've barely seen you sleep, but every time, Doctor, every time, you've passed gas. Reckon it's something you do all the time."

"What?! Time Lords do not–"

"It's all right, Doctor. S'not the first time I've shared a bed with a man who farts. Used to go out with Mickey, remember?"

"I try very hard not to," he mutters so quietly she suspects she wouldn't have heard it, had she not been in his superior body.

"What?"

"Hm? We shouldn't keep your mother waiting! Up you get," he says and jumps out of the bed, swaying a little as he stands, grabbing ahold of one of the bedposts to keep his balance.

"You okay there?"

"Yep. Just… Human bodies," he says, making it sound as though he's cursing. "I'll just..." He nods at the door. "Since I can't wear anything from my closet. See you in the console room in fifteen?"

"Yeah, all right," she says, suppressing the grin that threatens to overtake her face.

Beaming to herself, she gets out of bed as soon as he's gone, grabs a clean pair of pyjamas from the closet and heads towards his en suite. She doesn't find his suit very comfortable and, since they're only having breakfast with her mum, she doesn't bother with proper clothes–or shaving, for that matter. The Doctor shows up in something similar to the brown outfit he wore the other day, only now with a blue tie and chucks in a matching colour.

"Where did you get those?" she asks, looking at the shoes.

"D'you like them?"

"Yeah."

"Bought them yesterday. You only have one pair, Rose. That's hardly sufficient. When this whole thing is over, I'm taking you to Hungary–the planet, not the country. They have the universe's largest Converse outlet mall. We'll have you sorted like that," he says and snaps his fingers.

"Okay…" she says, surprised but happy.

He proffers her his arm. "Allons-y, Rose Tyler. Gotta do something about that rumbling stomach of yours."

Her mum is already cooking breakfast when they show up in her kitchen and she starts chuckling pretty much instantly, eyeing them from head to toe. Once she's calmed down, she begins to ask them about the days they've spent since the swap; for every answer, she giggles more and more until she laughs so hard tears are streaming down her cheeks and she has to wipe her face with her apron. Rose is honestly surprised over her mum's reaction; she thought she would've been more upset, but it seems as though knowing that it's temporary makes her mum see only the humour of it all.

They spend the rest of the day with Jackie, chatting, playing board games and watching telly. When evening comes and they make to leave, she tells them that they can park the TARDIS in Rose's old bedroom, so they can come out and visit her whenever they get cabin fever. The Doctor gives Rose a look that tells her he'd rather not take Jackie up on that offer all that much but, after they say goodnight to her mum and walks back inside the TARDIS, he does move it to her old room instead of parking them in the time vortex.

"Are you…" The Doctor runs his fingers over the console, keeping his back to her. "Are you tired?"

"Yeah, I am actually. Still don't feel quite like myself–well, you know what I mean. Is that normal?"

"Yes. I'd imagine you feeling a bit drained for a couple of days."

"Yeah."

"Yeah," he says and she can actually hear him swallow and how his heart races.

"So… Wanna sleep together?" she says, suspecting that's what he's mustering up the courage to ask her.

He spins around, eyes big like saucers. "What?!"

She presses her palms together and rests them against her cheek, pretending to snore. "_Sleep_ together."

"Oh." A blush creeps up his cheeks. "Yeah, that's… Yep. My-my bedroom?"

"'Kay."

They walk hand in hand to his bedroom and do their evening routine together, only separating when the Doctor needs to use the loo. After curling up together under the covers, she turns to him and asks him if he wants to spoon. He opens his mouth, hesitating for a few seconds before mumbling a positive response; she turns her back to him and he wraps his arm around her waist, nuzzling her between her shoulder blades.

"Did we lie like this last night?" she asks and feels him stiffen. "S'all right if we did."

"Yeah, ehm, no. Not quite. I was close, but not this close."

"That's okay, Doctor."

"I wouldn't. If you couldn't-couldn't say, ehm...if you wanted to or not. I wouldn't…"

"I can say now, though, and I'm okay with it, all right?"

He shifts and rests his chin on her upper arm, looking at her. "What, always?"

She shrugs. "Well, yeah. Unless you're being a git, but I don't think I'd sleep in the same bed as you then," she says and giggles.

"I'll try not to be a git, then," he says, resuming his previous position.

"Yeah, good luck with that."

He pulls back a little. "Oi!"

She takes his hand and tugs him closer. "Just teasing."

They fall into companionable silence and just lie for a long moment. His breathing is calm and she can feel the steady, slow beats of his heart against her back. She begins to relax in his arms, the hum of the TARDIS filling her mind and helping her drift off–but then he speaks, very quietly.

"D'you think you'll miss it?"

"Miss what?"

"You said I'm stuck with you. That means you'll never… You'll never marry, Rose. You'll never have children or do...human things."

"Oh, that. Nah."

"You're lying," he says softly.

"So what if I will? Doesn't mean it's not worth it. There's always something you want that you can't have, right?" she says, but he doesn't reply. "Doctor, this is the life I want. Warts and all."

"You're so young," he says, sounding tired.

"And you're so old," she says, mimicking his tone–and then she chuckles as she realises what they just said.

"What?"

"_This my darling I've been told_," she sings loudly, smiling to herself as she realises that the Doctor has a lovely voice. "_I don't care just what they say, 'cause forever I will stay._"

"It's 'pray'," he murmurs.

"_You and I will be as free…_" she continues, nudging him with her elbow as she can't remember the rest.

"..._as the birds up in the trees_," he fills in.

"_Oh, please stay by me, Diana_," they belt out simultaneously before bursting out laughing.

Rose keeps singing the song–sometimes poking the Doctor so that he takes over when she doesn't know the lyrics, sometimes trying to harmonise and laughing when they fail–until she hears the Doctor's soft snores behind her. She smiles, chest constricting with all the emotions she feels for him whirling within her. Pressing his hand to her hearts, she closes her eyes and drifts off to sleep.

* * *

beta: resile


	5. Hard

So sorry for taking so long. I just wanted to finish my other wip (which I have) before I continued with this one.  
**Warning**: No smut as such, but a lot of mature language/situations.  
**beta**: resile

* * *

One might think that by allowing her daughter and that alien to park the TARDIS in her flat, Jackie would see a lot of them; however, several days pass before Rose bursts out of it one morning, dressed in jimjams, panting and looking flushed and as though words will start spilling out of her any second. It's a little strange, Jackie has to admit, but now that she knows the circumstances, she recognises her daughter's body language and expressions, helping her accept that the person before her really is Rose.

Jackie gives her an encouraging smile, but Rose turns on her heel and heads into the loo. When she comes back into the kitchen, she wraps her arms around her mum and hugs her close for a moment, not saying a single thing. Fortunately, Jackie knows just how to get her daughter to chat when she's in this state, and fixes them a cuppa each and finds some biscuits in the cupboard.

She sets the table and motions her daughter to take her usual seat, nodding at the packet, still smiling. Rose sits down and takes a biscuit, nibbling on it until it's nothing more than crumbs left on the table.

"What's happened, sweetheart?"

"You're gonna laugh at me."

"I might." Jackie nods, eyeing her daughter's temporary body. "Would love to say I won't, but right now? I might."

Rose sighs. "Yeah, I get it. I'd laugh as well."

"Well, tell me, then."

Rose regards her for a moment, pouting somewhat, before drawing in a breath and sinking back further in her seat.

"So I woke up, yeah, and I have this massive…" She gestures around her crotch. "Stiffie! A morning stiffie. And he smells so good! Well, suppose_my_ hormones do. To his nose. I don't get how he's not…" She shakes her head and smiles but, even though she's not in her right body, Jackie knows her daughter well enough to see that it's forced. "Anyway, the first time we woke up together–"

"Woke up together?"

"Uhm, yeah. He has nightmares. Like, real bad ones. And he needs comfort, 'cause he's like bonded to the TARDIS, but he can't… Ugh, does it matter? It's just platonic sleeping, all right?"

Jackie holds up her hands. "Yeah, all right. You were saying?"

"Yeah, uhm, the first time we woke up together like that I actually _humped him_," she says, hissing out the last words.

Jackie laughs. "You wha'?"

"Yeah! And last time, you know after that whole sensory thing, I think I was too tired or something. I just got hard, but I didn't do anything weird. This time, though, I was just about to grab his hip and like, thrust, when I realised what I was doing. I don't think he noticed that I was all… You know. And then I had to go to the loo. But it was…" Her eyes are wide open, her cheeks flushed. "How am I supposed to wee with a stiffie? And it wouldn't go down! Dunno, can I hurt it if I–"

Jackie guffaws, holding the table top and leaning forward.

"I don't get how blokes control it! I get hard all the time! Dunno, from hugs! The way he smells. My dreams. Daydreams, even, or memories. If we're just being silly, horsing around. Like the other day, right, we were in the pool. We didn't even do anything sexy! Were just mucking about, dunno, he was just trying to tickle me. And there it is, ready for action in my swim trunks. I even got hard when he shaved my face!"

"Stop, stop." Jackie giggles, brushing a few tears from her cheeks.

"I mean, it's been a week, mum. A week! And I'm so frustrated. I'm just glad I don't sleep all too much, 'cause if I would have to deal with that every morning, with him in my bed…?" She groans and hides her face in her hands. "When am I supposed to get used to this?"

"It's just a week left, though, innit?" Jackie says, barely able to keep herself calm.

"Yeah, I know. He did this whole checking-my-mind thing the other day, and there's nothing to do but wait. But still… It's really hard, mum."

"Yeah, you've said," she says, bursting out in laughter again.

"Mum!"

"Oh, Rose. Why don't you just have a wank?"

"I can't do that!"

"Sure you can. You just…" She does a quick hand gesture.

"Mum!" Rose glares at her. "That's not…" She sighs and picks at her nails. "We said we wouldn't explore. And I don't want to-to… Mum, you get it, right?"

"That you want your first time giving him a handjob to be with him, and not yourself. Yeah, I get it."

"Mum!"

"What? That's what you meant, right?"

Rose pouts and folds her arms across her chest. "Just feel so mortified all the time. And you know what the worst part is?"

Jackie schools her features and shakes her head, hearing on Rose's tone that the laughing matter is over and it's time for something serious.

"Every day we get to know one another's bodies more and more. And that means we get to know each other better as well. And in some ways that's good. Feels like we're closer now, but in other ways… There are things I didn't want him to know, and now I don't know how to behave once we turn back again."

"Like what?"

Rose shrugs and grabs a biscuit, turning it over in her hand before taking a bite.

"Oh, sweetheart… You should've heard the things he said about you."

Rose doesn't comment, but her posture changes the slightest bit, betraying that she's an eager listener.

"He said that you're beautiful, and he's lucky to have you, and…" Jackie knits her brow, thinking. "Well, that's what he said."

Rose slumps back in her seat. "Oh. Already knew that."

"But you should've heard _how_ he said it."

"Yeah…" She averts her eyes, fingers finding her earlobe to twirl an earring she isn't wearing, ending up just tugging in a way that's very similar to the Doctor's nervous habit. "Anyway, I better get back. I just ran straight out of there without a word. Must be worried about me."

* * *

The Doctor sits on the jump seat, already waiting for her when she steps inside the console room. He lights up when he sees her, smiling and scooting to the side to make room for her. She sits down beside him and leans her head against his shoulder, propping up her feet on the console, legs crossed at the ankles.

He sighs. "I miss doing that."

She nods at his dangling legs. "And I miss doing that."

They sit in silence for a moment. She knows he doesn't expect an explanation; they've always been good at sweeping things under the rug and move forward. It's different now, though. Topics she never thought would be up for discussion are now brought up daily. She wants to explain herself as well, wants to keep this little bit of intimacy, hoping that something will linger once they swap back.

"I got an erection, and I was so tired of feeling embarrassed, so I ran to my mum."

"Did she have any good advice?"

"She told me to have a wank."

She begins to laugh, looking at him and expecting him to join in, but he merely meets her eye and offers her a soft smile. Her giggles die down and she furrows her brow at him, shrugging with one shoulder as to ask him why he's not laughing with her.

"Maybe you should."

Her jaw drops. "Wha'?"

"I said: 'maybe you should'."

"Yeah, I heard you." She flicks her earlobes. "Superior Time Lord ears, yeah?"

"I wouldn't mind."

She snorts. "Yeah, right."

"I wouldn't," he says, and, as far as she can tell, he's earnest.

"Why not?"

"It's not my body right now. It's yours. As long as you don't do any permanent changes to it, you should treat it as such. You won't be giving _me_..." He runs his fingers through his hair. "Ehm, I won't have any memories of it. That," he says, pointing at her body, "is not me. That's you."

"But I-but it's-but… No. No, I couldn't. It's still yours. And I'd know-I'd know what it looks like and-and–"

He purses his lips, looking as though he's trying not to smile at her. "Don't you already?"

"No! I keep my eyes averted! I don't look at it directly."

He knits his brow and takes one of her hands, cradling it in his. "Rose. It's just a vessel. I want you to start relaxing. This is…_difficult_ for you, and…" His forehead smooths out, expression softening into a smile. "I promise, I don't mind."

"But what about you, then?"

"What about me?"

She bites at her thumbnail, turning her head and looking at his cheekbones rather than meeting his eye. "Shouldn't you get, uhm, get permission as well?"

He shakes his head.

"Why not?"

"I don't need to."

"What d'you mean? I know my body has needs, all right? I usually–" She shuts her mouth with a click before she tells him just how often she masturbates.

"As you can tell, that body obviously has a sex drive–"

She snorts. "Yeah, I sorta have noticed that, yeah."

"Yes, well, I've also spent centuries not paying much heed to it."

"What, like a monk?"

"Yes, sure. Like a monk."

She crinkles her nose, peering at him. "Oh. So you're not really bothered then?"

"Nope!"

She blinks at him, eyebrows raised in skepticism. "...and I'm getting a free pass."

"One, two. As many as you need." He squeezes her hand before letting it go. "Now, I've still not had breakfast, so what do you say? Galley?"

"Yeah. Sounds good. Only had a few biscuits with mum."

"Well, then." He stands up and smiles at her, holding out his hands and wiggling his fingers.

"Really, though? You really don't mind?"

"Nope."

She gets up on her feet and puts her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes at him. "When are you going to freak out."

"Sorry?"

"About all this. You're taking it really well, you know. I panic all the time!"

"No, you don't."

"More than you do, anyway."

"Sure. But this is new to you. It's not to me."

"You've body swapped before?"

"Not for this amount of time, no, but yes. Also, I've changed bodies before. Several times, actually." He winks.

"But not human! You said so. Not human."

"No, but it's temporary. Do you know how short a fortnight is for me? It's over in the blink of an eye, Rose. And there's just one week left. What's the point in freaking out?" he says, holding out his hands, eyebrows raised. "Would you rather me running around like a headless chicken?" His face splits into a goofy grin, chin tilted up. "I can, if it would make you feel better."

She smiles back, swinging her arms. "No…"

"You sure?" He tucks his hands under his armpits, flapping his arms. "Cluck-cluck."

Her smile grows into a full blown grin. "How are you making clucking sounds without your head, though?"

"Good point!"

He presses his lips together and runs around the console room, flapping his arms and constantly shooting her looks, undoubtedly to see if she's laughing. She bites her lip not to, and he exaggerates his moves, increases his speed, and finally runs up to her and pecks her in the chest and on her arms with his nose. She bursts out in giggles, wrapping her arms around him and lifting him up, spinning around as they hug. When she puts him down, she keeps holding him close and, as she looks into his eyes, more sparkling than haunted, and hears his heart beating a little bit faster, there's a moment that she thinks that, maybe, he wants this as well. Wants her.

Her eyes drift down to his lips–

No, _her_ lips.

She shakes her head and lets go of him, moving away and regaining her composure before turning back around with a smile on her face. She grabs his hand, tugging him with her towards the galley. "C'mon, then. Let's have breakfast."

* * *

Rose curls up in the sofa and pulls her legs under her, leaning against the throw pillows propped up against the armrest. The Doctor settles down on the other end and hands her one of the two bowls he's carrying–popcorn for him, and crisps for her. The screen in front of them flickers to life and the Doctor presses the randomizer button, since neither of them knows what they are in the mood for, and the projector begins to play one of the many films in his media library. It turns out to be a romantic drama about a blond woman and a brown haired man, something that's not unusual in a film, but brings a smile to Rose's lips nonetheless.

Wrapped up in the plot, Rose forgets about her snack. She's too invested in the fictional relationship on screen to do much else than root for the couple. When they finally get together, she can't help but raise her fists in the air and let out a squee. The Doctor shoots her an amused, and tender, look, grinning; she sticks her tongue out at him–and then the scene changes.

She freezes, tongue slowly finding its way back into her mouth, lips staying parted. Instead of fading to black once the snogging turned rather steamy, the enormous screen displays naked skin and writhing bodies. It's not graphic, but beautifully shot in a way that leaves little to the imagination.

The man has his head between the woman's thighs and she bites her lip, whimpering from pleasure. Rose's cock twitches. The camera pans slowly over the woman's body–from her curled toes, up the length of her legs, following the smooth arch of her back, lingering on her pebbled nipples, and then at her moaning face, half-hidden by a curtain of blond locks. Rose begins to feel uncomfortable in her pyjama bottoms. The woman places her hand on the man's head, pressing him nearer as she cries out. Rose feels her blood rush to her groin. The man makes hungry noises, burrowing closer to the woman and curling his hands around her hips, fingers buried in her flesh…

It's a frequent fantasy of hers–the Doctor going down on her with so much enthusiasm it seems as though he's enjoying it more than she is–and one she's touched herself to more times than she can count. The scene is really long, giving her plenty of time to imagine it being her and the Doctor up there, since the actors' faces are mostly obscured by hair, shadows or limbs.

Rose definitely has an erection.

It's not the first time she's been aroused by something they've watched–one of their favorite shows has frequent, and pretty convincing, sex scenes–but it's never been a problem before since she could hide it. However, now just one glance in her direction will make things rather obvious, and…

Oh. Right.

She _hasn't_ been able to hide it before. Not from his superior senses. He has probably wondered, every single time, how long it would take for the stupid little ape to lose all control and throw herself at him, right there on the sofa.

A flush washes over her, leaving her cheeks burning. He doesn't need to look at her to know now either; he probably expects it. No wonder he doesn't seem to be bothered by her frequent erections. The art of ignoring her constant horniness is most likely something he mastered long before his regeneration. She closes her eyes and clenches her jaw and fists, taking deep and steady breaths as quietly as she can–and she can't help but notice the lack of that heady scent in the air. She cocks an ear, listening after rapid heartbeats or faster breaths, but the Doctor seems unaffected. He's wearing her randy, human body, and still there's _nothing_, whilst she's so hard not even humiliation helps her soften.

God, she can't stay in here.

"I'm…" She gestures with her hand over her shoulder, pointing at the door. "Hitting the loo."

She rushes out to the corridor and, since she, by now, has figured how to give the TARDIS silent commands, asks the time ship to please move her room closer. A door instantly appears in the wall, and she walks through it and breathes out in relief as she finds herself in her en suite. Travelling with a very sexy man who's intent on not shagging his willing companion has left Rose feeling frustrated as it is, and masturbation is what's kept her from going mad. She would lie if she said that she's not tempted; she has permission, after all. Sticking her hand into her pyjama bottoms, she takes herself in hand and looks down.

It's one of those things she, and all of her girlfriends, always have been curious about. Just as they, giggling, talked about what they would do if they were to be invisible, invincible, or telepathic for a day, they talked about what they would do if they were temporarily transformed into men. They all agreed upon peeing standing up, and then, after some more giggling, wanking. A lot of wanking. After a few pints some even admitted they'd go out and pull someone–man, woman, or both.

Never did she think that the opportunity would present itself, but here she is, in a man's body, staring at the rock-hard cock in her hand. Her _still_hand.

It's not that she doesn't want to wank. She does–and definitely with this cock. It's thick, not too long, feels amazing in her hand and, although it looks slightly paler than she's used to, seems perfectly human. She just doesn't want to get to know the Doctor's body alone. Apparently he has no difficulty separating mind from body, but she can't say the same. She can't shake the feeling that she's doing something wrong, and standing there with his cock in her hand is enough to make her feel dirty. Her mum was right. The first time Rose gives the Doctor a handjob–as if that would ever happen–she wants to look him in the eye, see his lax face as she licks a drop of pre-come from the head of his cock, hear his gasps as she takes him into her mouth as far as she can, and...

She doesn't want to feel this body tremble; she doesn't want to hear it moan. Not without him in it.

At the beginning of their travels, before she felt comfortable enough to masturbate in her new bedroom, Rose tried taking cold showers to relieve some of the frustration she felt. She quickly learned that they did nothing to ease her discomfort and only left her feeling grumpy. What helps her relax–and that hasn't changed since the swap–is singing the most corny songs imaginable during a long, hot shower.

Ignoring the sensation in her cock that begs for her attention, she lets go of it and asks the TARDIS to turn on the shower. It's already streaming down, at the temperature she prefers in this body, when she steps into the stall and bellows out the first line of _The Wind Beneath My Wings_.

* * *

Feeling clean and relaxed, Rose puts on a fresh pair of jimjams–she's moved a whole stack of them from the Doctor's closet to her own–and runs her fingers through her hair to get the fringe out of her eyes. She hears a knock on the door and the Doctor pops in his head, smiling at her.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah, 'course."

"Was thinking that I could check again. If you want."

She nods and settles down on the bed, legs criss-cross; he sits down opposite her, mirroring her position, their knees touching. Holding out his hands, fingers hovering over her temples, he smiles at her. She nods to show that she's ready and closes her eyes, wishing that this time he'll have some good news. She can tell that he's being careful; he takes his time. He's been inside her head–or rather _his_ head–a few times by now to see if there's anything he can do about the swap, but so far it's been nothing but a waiting game. She feels him withdrawing and flutters her eyes open, watching his facial expression for a hint of what he found out. He shakes his head, apologetic smile on his lips.

She sighs and ducks her head. "Oh."

"But!"

Her head snaps back up. "Yeah?"

"I can tell it's close now. Only a few days left. Which we already knew, of course, but confirmation is always nice, hm?"

"Yeah."

"We just need to be close to one another all the time. In case we feel that sneeze coming on."

She shifts back a little. "What does 'all the time' mean, exactly?"

"Well, loo visits can be in private still, of course. But it would probably be best if they are kept short, and the other person waits outside. Just in case."

"Yeah." She smiles, rubbing her forehead, feeling a bit uncomfortable. "And, uhm, how much physical contact do we have to have, then?"

"A long, tight hug should suffice." He smiles. "Luckily, we're good at that!"

"Yeah. Really hope it happens now, though. The wedding's in four days, and there's no way I'm going in this," she says, pointing at herself.

"First of all, we can always go back in time." He grins. "Time ship! And it's very unlikely that the swap won't take place before then, Rose."

"You sure it will happen any day now?"

"Yes."

"Then there's something I wanna do."

"What?"

"I just… I need to check some coordinates."

He furrows his brow. "No travelling, remember?"

"Yeah, I know. But it's, like, a five minute trip. Really safe location as well! Just need to pop into the library and check. Meet me in the console room in ten?"

He narrows his eyes at her, regarding her for a moment before nodding. 

* * *

"Okay!" She holds out a yellow post-it note. "The TARDIS helped me. I think this should be right."

"You're really starting to become buddies," he says, over-enunciating the last word.

"Huh."

"Hm?"

"I think I'm starting to get it. What you said. That you see me, even though I'm inside your body. Like, I mean, I've always seen it in your eyes, but the rest of it has been distracting. When you did that face just now, it didn't look weird anymore." She shrugs. "Just looked like you."

He raises his eyebrows and smiles at her, and then snatches the post-it from her hand, punching in the coordinates and pulling a lever with a big, sweeping gesture. She helps him pilot the ship, guided by his commands and, to her surprise and pleasure, the TARDIS. The time ship doesn't communicate in words, but rather a sense of 'yes' or 'no' in Rose's mind as her hands move towards a button or a knob. Soon, she feels the TARDIS jolt and she backs up against the railing, holding it as the time ship lands with a shake and a groan.

"So, where are we?" he asks, giving her a once over as though he's just now realising she's wearing one of his suits and his coat.

She scrunches up her nose and gives him a wink, pointing at the coat rack, where a winter jacket and a pair of boots have materialised. He looks a bit befuddled, but heads over to it and puts on the clothes; she walks down the ramp and opens both doors with a big movement and head held high, breathing in the cold air and exhaling it with a drawn out 'aaah'.

She steps outside, smiling as the snow crunches beneath her feet, puffing out more of her breath and watching it freeze. The chill is invigorating instead of biting her cheeks and numbing her toes. Her eyes drift over the glittering landscape, smile growing wider as she realises that she's impervious to the blinding effect the vast stretches of white would have on human eyes.

"Brrr." The Doctor links his arm with hers, huddling closer for warmth and squinting at their bright surroundings. "Should've worn a hat, scarf– Oh! Wait a mo'."

He runs back inside and comes out a only a few seconds later, head, neck and shoulders wrapped in a very long scarf with stripes in autumn colours.

"See?" He twirls in front of her, the fringed end of the garment fluttering behind him, but halts before the spin is completed. "Hold on. Are those penguins?" Shadowing his eyes with his hand, he looks at the flock of birds waddling around further ahead.

She laughs. "Yeah. We're on the South Pole. Long before any explorers got here."

"Okay. What for?"

She draws in a deep breath through her nose, turning to look at him. "There's something I've always wanted to do, but I've never been able to. Not until now."

"What? Pet penguins? You know, they can be pretty aggressive. I wouldn't recommend walking into that flock. That body might be superior to a human's, but I'm not penguin repell– What are you doing?" He walks closer to her and leans forward, looking at her handiwork. "Ah." He chuckles. "Really, Rose?"

"What?" She shakes her penis and tucks it back into her pants and trousers, stepping back a bit. "I should've brought a camera. That's beautiful, it is." She points at her work of art. "Look, I even made a little swirly thing."

He claps his hands, nodding. "Yes, I would never have guessed that this is the first time you've peed your name on snow. Well done, Rose. Well done. Ten out of ten!"

She bows. "Why, thank you."

He smiles at her, looking amused and bouncing on the balls of his feet. "So...anything else you were planning on doing in Antarctica?"

"Nope. Just weeing a bit."

He chuckles, snuggling into the scarf. "Well, whilst we're here we should at least check out some seals before we head off, hm?"

"Oooh! Yes! I'd love to!"

She looks around for the coastline and grabs his hand, tugging him with her as she skips the short distance down the hill towards a cliff overlooking the ocean. Although she thinks they made the right decision in staying inside the TARDIS, she can't help but feel wistful over the fact that there are so many things she won't experience in this body with all its heightened senses. Everything is so _crisp_: the bright sun shining down on pristine stretches of snow; clear blue skies with sparse smattering of clouds; a rippled ocean hiding creatures she knows, thanks to nature shows on telly, are magnificent and wondrous; and a sea of chubby seals, lolling about on the dark brown shore.

"Look! So many!"

"Yep. They've got no natural land predators here."

"Ah." Raising her eyebrows, she smiles and nods at him. "No polar bears."

He returns it, crinkles surrounding his eyes. "No polar bears."

"Can we go a little closer?"

"Bad idea. Should probably not stay for too long, either. You never know."

"Yeah, I know. We can't even go on a date without running into trouble." She bumps his hip with hers. "I'm sure there are some penguin looking aliens flapping about somewhere, just waiting for two lost souls to gobble all up."

He smiles at her, a bit red-nosed and rosey-cheeked; she pulls up the scarf to cover his ears and wraps her arm around him, keeping him close as they look out over the landscape.

"My fragile little human." She pokes her tongue out at him. "Can't take you anywhere."

He huffs and glares at her, but the smile stays.

* * *

Rose lies beside the Doctor in bed, wiggling her toes and drumming her fingers against the book on her chest. It's the night of the sixteenth day, and they've still not swapped back. The Doctor has checked both bodies daily and come to the conclusion that it will happen 'any day now'. She's starting to understand why her mum's always so intent on slapping him.

"Rose, I understand that you're frustrated, but can you please lie still. I need my sleep."

"It should've happened by now! Why isn't anything happening?"

"It will. Give it time."

She sits up, frowning at him. "I've given it time! The wedding's tomorrow. I'm not going there like this. I'm not! It's been over two weeks, Doctor. We won't be stuck like this, right? Ugh, mum's gonna _kill_ us."

"Of course not. I just estimated wrong. Ehm, the, ehm, well, the levels of quert and ronixum are down, we're just waiting on the myozameen. Maybe you won't be able to go to the wedding, but we won't be stuck like this."

"Promise?"

"Yes."

"Cross your hearts?"

He draws his fingers over her chest. "Cross my hearts."

"'Kay."

She sighs and puts down the book on the nightstand, settling down in bed again and spooning the Doctor from behind. The time ship turns down the lights and she closes her eyes, wondering if this is something that will stick. She wouldn't mind continuing sleeping together, now that cuddling in bed has become something that goes without saying, but she suspects the Doctor will want his privacy back. She stifles a disappointed huff and snuggles closer, deciding to get some well-needed rest. She has avoided sleeping because of her pesky erections, but now she's knackered, in a bad mood, and can't be arsed to care. The Doctor twines his fingers with hers, keeping their arms nestled together close to his body; the TARDIS fills her head with soft humming, lulling her to sleep.

Some time during the night they must have shifted positions, because when Rose wakes up again, she feels his chest pressing into her back and his legs following the curve of hers. His nose tickles her neck, nuzzled into her hair as it is, and his hand rests over her breast, fingers curled around the swell. He hums a little in his sleep, hips grinding against her bum and she bites back a moan. She licks her lips and then smirks as she feels that she's not the only one with a morning–

Hold on.

She flutters her eyes open and holds out her hand in front of her. Short fingers, broad palm, and longer nails than she can ever remember having. Her hand. Her very human hand. Letting out a squeal of joy, she jumps out of the Doctor's bed and grabs the mobile on the nightstand to check the time.

"Huh?" The Doctor sits up in bed, rubbing his eyes. "What is it?"

"We're back! Doctor, we're back!" She checks her mobile. "And I have to get ready! It's eleven and the wedding starts at one. Eleven?" She crinkles her forehead. "How can it be eleven already?"

"Huh?" The Doctor's mouth stretches out in such a large yawn she's surprised his jaw doesn't dislocate. "What's happening? Oooh, my voice!" His eyes brighten and he smiles. "It's mine!"

"Yeah! Must've swapped back in our sleep. Good thing we're cuddlers, huh? Wait. Are we going to get sick?"

"Nah. Not this time. A bit tired– Well, evidently. Senses a bit numb until our minds and bodies catch up with one another. But that's it."

"I can't believe we're back! I'd hug you, but I don't have time!" she says, texting her mum to tell her she's on her way.

He frowns. "No time for a hug? That's preposterous!"

"Gotta get ready for the wedding." She rushes over to the door, but stops before walking out of the room. "I know you must be, like, going mad. Being stuck on Earth and in my body for over two weeks. Uhm, you could, you know, go somewhere? Since you're not coming with me." She bores her eyes into him, pointing at him. "But you better pick me up! If you leave me behind, I'm coming after you with a pitch fork."

He grins at her. "I'd like to see that, actually. Will you be carrying a torch as well?"

She smiles. "Yeah, whatever. Don't have time for banter. Just pick me up again! Like, tomorrow? At noon or something. Reckon mum and me will sleep in."

"And what if you find, ehm, a...special gentleman friend at the reception? And don't sleep at your mother's."

She rolls her eyes. "Don't be daft. See you later."

It's not until she stands in the shower, fingers buried in lathered hair, that she realises exactly how she woke up, and that she didn't even burn the memory into her mind of what it feels like to have the Doctor fondle her breast and poke her in the bum with his hard cock. Grumbling to herself, she resumes washing her hair, but freezes as she feels the TARDIS' comforting touch in her mind. It doesn't feel the same in her body, but there's no doubt her ability to communicate with the time ship has improved. She sends back a wave of gratitude and happiness over the time ship's support, and the fact that their connection remains, quickly finishing her shower and pulling on knickers, stockings, and her TARDIS blue dress. Making sure her cleavage looks good, she pushes her breasts up, and then does her hair and makeup with practised movements: heavy on the mascara, easy on the lipgloss, and an updo that's more tousled than sleek. Checking her reflection in the mirror, she puts on the necklace her nan gave her, and makes a few finishing touches before tossing a couple of things she needs into her clutch.

She keeps her shoes in her hand, planning on putting them on once she's out of the time ship. Not only to spare her feet, but also because she's stuck her heels in the grating and ruined a nice pair of strappy sandals more than once. On her way out, she stops by the Doctor's bedroom to say goodbye, but it's empty. Since she doesn't have time to look for him, she shrugs and walks on towards the console room.

To her surprise, he's already waiting for her, leaning his backside against the console, hands hidden in the pockets of his black trousers. He looks up as he hears her enter the room and her stomach flips. Her eyes flit down to his bow tie, his dinner jacket, and then his black chucks. She drinks him in, and refuses to feel ashamed about it. She can't believe that she was so stressed this morning that she forgot to _look_ at him. Touch him. Enjoy being him and her.

Smiling, she shakes her head. "You're coming with me?"

He shrugs. "If you want."

"I thought… When I asked you. In the dressing room. You never said yes."

"Well…" He sniffs. "Never said no, either, did I?"

Feeling herself tearing up the tiniest bit, she licks her lips and swallows. "You're really coming with me?"

"Don't you want me to?"

"Yes!" She hurls herself forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and feeling him encircle her waist with his. "Thank you!" Not wanting to smear her makeup all over his white shirt, she stops herself from burrowing her face into his chest and settles on only breathing him in. "Mmm. I missed this. Hugging you."

"And yet you didn't hug me this morning."

She pulls back, but keeps her hands on his shoulder. "Was in a hurry."

"You look beautiful."

He doesn't smile, but his expression is so soft and warm she can't help but blush.

"Yeah? Not too much makeup, then?"

He shakes his head. "I don't care about that, Rose. Wear as little or as much as you like."

"S'not the only thing you don't care about, apparently. Do you know how hairy I was? You didn't shave my…anything!"

He scrunches up his face, moving his head back a bit as he looks at her. "Did you want me to?"

"God, no! Especially not… No, no. You did good, Doctor. I took care of it myself."

"Oi!" She hears her mum calling from outside and the Doctor moves away, rubbing the hair at his neck. "Coming out today, are we?"

"Yes, mum!" Rose holds her hand out to the Doctor, wiggling her fingers. "You're about the meet my whole family, you are. And they're all gonna think you're my bloke." She snickers at him. "Ready?"

"Not even a little," he says, taking her hand and following her through the doors.


	6. Wedding

Jackie doesn't trust the Doctors piloting skills enough to let him take them to the wedding. Instead, she's borrowed a car from Rodrigo. The Doctor mutters under his breath that he messed up _once_ and shouldn't have to be punished for it for the rest of his life. Rose very kindly refrains from pointing out that _once_ hardly is accurate. He insists on driving at least, talking about how he loves driving, and whooping when he sees that Rodrigo's car is yellow. He babbles about his old Edwardian roadster Bessie the entire ride, and they arrive just as the last of the guests take their seats.

They slip into one of the empty church benches in the back, polite smiles on their faces and programs in hand. Rose flips through one, reading words without seeing them. Weddings never were her thing. She's here to see her cousin dressed up and happy, and meet relatives she's not seen in a long time. The Doctor, on the other hand, takes great interest, humming to himself as he goes through the processional, chosen hymns, and whatever else is printed in the program. Her eyes glide over their surroundings instead, spotting people she knows, looking at the flower arrangements, and studying the old wall murals and stained glass windows.

This morning was so hectic, but now Rose has the peace of mind to notice how dull everything is in her human body. Colours aren't as vibrant, details not as sharp, fragrances not as complex. The only heightened sensation is the hard bench digging into her poor human bum, something she knows wouldn't have been a problem when she had a Gallifreyan derriere. Considering her unstimulating surroundings and uncomfortable seat, one might assume that she, at least, won't have any problem staying awake–but she's already feeling sleepy! She pouts and scoots down a little, leaning her head against the top of the backrest and huffing at how uncomfortable it is for her poor neck. The Doctor puts down the program and takes her hand, fingers brushing over her palm in slow motions.

"Tired?" he whispers.

"Mm."

He pats his shoulder with the hand not holding hers. "Feel free to take a kip. I'll wake you up if you snore, and I'll tell you the important bits afterwards."

She stares at him, wide-eyed and lips slightly parted, those three little words dangerously close to slipping out. It frightens her; the feeling is so strong, so often, and it's not the first time she's had to bite her tongue. There's no doubt in her mind that it's something he doesn't want to hear. Besides, he knows it already. He must. With all of those superior senses, how could he not?

His eyes flit over her face, brow crinkles a bit. "What?"

"Nothing. Thank you," she says with a smile.

She doesn't take him up on his offer until they're a few minutes into the ceremony, and she feels as though she'll pass out from boredom any minute. Her mum is already moved to tears, patting her face with the Doctor's handkerchief. He seems to listen to the minister's every word, eyebrows raised and head nodding, ever the anthropologist. Rose lifts his arm to snuggle into his side; he understands and wraps it around her shoulders, tucking her close to his body. Her mum will be angry, but Rose reckons she has a good excuse, what with the taxing swap and all, and lets herself drift off to sleep.

She's woken up some time later by soft murmurs and gentle nudges to the shoulder not pressing into the Doctor's side. Her hand has fallen to lie on his thigh. She stares at it, fingers curled and so close to a place they really shouldn't be–especially not in church. She snatches it away as though burned and sits up straight, blinking and squinting from the light.

"How long was I out?" she whispers.

"Thirty two minutes."

"Really? How long's this ceremony, anyway?"

"I estimate it being over in eight minutes."

She stifles a chuckle, knowing it would earn her a solid glare and a lot of scolding from her mum. "So, what did I miss?"

"Nothing much. Verses being read. Some singing. A child wetting herself–I'm amazed you didn't wake up then, actually; it created quite the buzz." He nods at a tall, dark, and very handsome bloke, standing at the altar with the rest of the bridal party. "The matron of honour pretty much devouring that groomsman over there with her eyes–mark my words, he'll be pushed into a closet later for a quick shag–and now the vows. Should probably be quiet for those, I reckon."

"That's my cousin Delilah. She might look, but she won't touch."

He snorts. "I know that look. I'll massage your undoubtedly tired feet when we get home tonight if I'm right."

"Deal." She holds out her hand to shake on it, but withdraws it, sly smile spreading on her face. "Hold on. If _you're_ right?"

"Eeeer. No, that's not… I meant if you're right. Yes, if _you_...are...right."

She snickers. "Oh? And what would I have to do if I'm wrong, then?"

"Weeell, Rose Tyler. I, ehm, I was thinking–"

Her mum leans forward and turns her head to them, frowning and putting her index finger to her lip. Rose pulls a face, but nods, feeling as though she's fourteen again and having too much fun when she shouldn't–and then realising with a smile that that's pretty much her daily life.

* * *

The day is perfect for the occasion: sun shining down on the guests as they walk the short distance to the church hall for the reception; butterflies fluttering from flower to flower; and birds chirping in the air, soaring from blooming branch to blooming branch. Rose's arm is linked around the Doctor's–he proffered it to her as soon as they got up from the bench, mumbling something about her being tired–and her mum is on her other side. As they stroll and chat about the ceremony–well, it's mostly Jackie and the Doctor who talk, whilst Rose listens with one ear–Rose realises something.

She grabs her mum's arm and stops, staring at her with wide eyes. "Mum. I never rang Abby and said I'd bring a plus one. We're going to mess up the seating chart planning thing! She'll be livid."

"Oh, that." Her mum dismisses her with a handwave. "I rang her weeks ago, I did. Told her he'd come."

The Doctor frowns. "But I decided to come today!"

Jackie snorts. "We all know you don't know how to say no to Rose."

"That's quite the tongue twister, that! I bet you can't say that six times " the Doctor says, goofy smile on his face. "Ooh, or: Six sick hicks nick six slick bricks with picks and sticks. Six sick hicks nick six slick bricks with picks and sticks. Six sick hicks nick–"

"S'almost like you wanna change the subject, innit?" Jackie rolls her eyes and makes a high-pitched, amused sound in the back of her throat. "So, who are you supposed to be, then?"

"Sorry?"

"To Rose! I wanna know what to tell people when they ask. 'Cause they will! And, just so you know, no one's gonna believe that you're just mates. Two beautiful adults, spending their every waking hour together–and sleeping hour, as well, apparently." She gives them each a pointed look. "Always touching, laughing about things no one else understands… Do as you like, but people would sooner believe he's an alien than that you're not a couple."

"Uhm…" Rose says, definitely not looking at the Doctor.

"Oh, just decide something! There's your nan. Mum! Mum! Over here!" Waving at Rose's nan with one hand, Jackie nudges the Doctor in the arm with the other and turns to him. "Just try and be normal for once, and everything will be all right."

Rose's nan scurries over, pinching the purple fabric of her dress, holding up the skirts as she moves, already boring her eyes into her daughter's. "Jacqueline Andrea Suzette Prentice. You were late, you were. Don't think I didn't see you lot sneaking in."

"Mum, we were in time."

"Barely!" She turns to Rose and pulls her in for a hug, squeezing her tight before releasing her. "Oh, Rose! Look at you. So _beautiful_. Not seen you in ages." She gasps and touches Rose's cheek. "You've lost your baby fat, you have. Oh, lord. You've become a woman! And I've missed it." She clucks her tongue and shakes her head, eyes drifting over to the Doctor. "And who's this?"

"Mum, this is Rose's Doctor."

"He's not _my_ Doctor."

"Doctor? Doctor what?"

The Doctor smiles and proffers his hand to shake. "McCrimmon. James McCrimmon. But everybody calls me Doctor."

"Juliette. Hm." She gives him a once-over and then leans closer to Jackie. "Bit old, isn't he? Handsome, though."

"Oh, if you only knew," Jackie mutters under her breath. She links her arm with her mum's. "C'mon, we better catch up with the others."

Juliette looks over her shoulder as they walk. "What are you a doctor of, then?"

He sniffs and tilts up his chin. "Oh, most things. I'm brilliant!"

"But what's your job? You've got a job, don't you?"

The Doctor crinkles his nose. "Nah."

"But where do you get money?"

He tugs at his ear with his free hand. "The bank?"

"Uhm, the Doctor's the last of, uhm…" Rose twirls one of the loosely curled strands hanging down from her updo. "His bloodline. He inherited the family estate. The, uhm, the TARDIS estate. It's in…Scotland."

Juliette narrows her eyes at him. "Oooh, you're one of those."

Jackie tugs at her arm. "Mum, keep your eyes forward before you trip and break your hip. We're almost there."

"I'm sixty! I'm not gonna break my hip!"

The Doctor lowers his raised eyebrows, furrowing them and pouting his lip. "What's she got against Scottish people? I didn't even use the accent this time."

"Nothing," Rose says. "Heirs who don't work, on the other hand…"

"Aaaah. Wait." He stops and frowns at her. "Then why did you make me an heir? Don't you want your nan to like me?"

"I don't know! I didn't know you were coming. S'not like I've had time to come up with a story or anything. Usually we just make up something or use the psychic paper, but this is my family. You might actually meet her again."

"Oi!" Jackie waves at them. "Get a move on!"

He starts to move, but Rose grabs his arm and stops him. "Doctor wait. I, uhm…" She swallows and licks her lips, feeling ridiculous that she's embarrassed after what they've just gone through. "So, I completely forgot… When was I supposed to get my period? I didn't bring any… But I don't feel..." She gestures around her abdomen. "You know, it feels different. Usually."

He sniffs at her, then takes her hand and lifts it to his mouth, giving her a firm lick on her wrist. She gasps, staring at him as he smacks his tongue, eyes directed skyward.

"Hm… A few days left, I reckon. Not very surprising, considering what your body just went through." He proffers her his arm, but stays still after she's looped hers around it. "And…" He looks over at her mum, who's nearly reached the stoop of the church hall. "What are we to each other?"

"Ugh, don't listen to mum. They'll just have to accept that we're mates. I'm not gonna pretend that you're my bloke just to make it easier."

"It's not like we haven't done it before. We're technically even married."

"First of all, don't you dare tell my mum that. Secondly, standing on one leg for five minutes whilst a bloke with eyestalks shakes a flower wreath over our heads–and then consummating our union with a high-five, of all things–just to get us out of jail for hugging in public does not make us married."

"On Saft it does."

"Yeah, all right, next time we're on Saft, I'll gladly call you my husband. But this is my family, Doctor. I can't pretend that you're my bloke! I'm spending the rest of my life with you. Can't pretend for that long."

"Are you, ehm, are you sure?"

"Yes!" She sighs and rolls her eyes, smiling. "How many times do I have to tell you? This is what I want. Warts and all. You're stuck with me."

"Fair enough." The corners of his mouth curl up, eyes warm. "Shall we?"

* * *

All four of them are luckily seated together, along with four guests from the groom's party, at a round table somewhere in the middle of the hall. Rose has a clear view of her cousin and her new husband, and catches Abby's eye, smiling and waving. Abby nods her head and beams, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. Her husband says something and she giggles, biting her lip and gazing at him with unabashed adoration before looking back at Rose. Abby gives a slight nod in the Doctor's direction and raises her eyebrows in question. Rose shrugs with one shoulder and crinkles her nose, then turns her attention back to her food.

Growing up, she never filled her head with fantasies of fairy tale weddings, but after meeting Jimmy she did dream about being Mrs. Stone. She filled her notebooks by practising her future name over and over, framing the signature with doodles of hearts, stars, and cute cartoon skulls. She'd be a rockstar wife, after all. That never happened, though, and she got together with Mickey shortly after the break up. Although she knew, in that way you do when life is mapped out for you regardless of your wishes, she and Mickey would one day marry, she never did practise writing Rose Smith.

Today she knows she'll never be the woman in a white dress and hair that took hours to coax into an elegant updo, surrounded by friends and family in a church hall, stirring her roast red pepper bisque with her spoon because she's too excited to eat. She'll never have a smartly dressed, handsome man by her side, matching rings on their fingers, and the promise of a protruding stomach in the near future. She'll never be anything but Rose Tyler.

She feels a hand touching hers under the table and she turns her head, finding the Doctor looking at her, brow knitted.

"You all right?" he asks, voice soft.

Her eyes flit over to Abby, then back to the Doctor. She bites her lip and smiles. "Yeah. Fantastic."

He beams back, still holding her hand, fingers touching her thigh. She should break off; this is the point where meeting someone's eye turns into_gazing_. Her lips part, just a little bit, tongue darting out on its own accord to wet them. His eyes drop down, following her movement, before returning to meet hers and she swears they're slightly darker. She feels butterflies fluttering from the pit of her stomach all the way up to her chest, pulse racing, and breaths growing shallow. His hand tightens around hers, and–

"How long have you been together, then?"

Juliette's nasal voice breaks the tension and Rose sucks in a sharp breath, turning back to face the others. Her nan's eyes are directed, unwavering, at the Doctor. He removes his hand from Rose's and straightens his back.

"We're not. We just travel together," Rose says and takes a sip of her water.

Her nan snorts and exchanges looks with Jackie. "I'm not a prude, Rose. You don't have to pretend for my sake. Not everybody can be like your cousin Abby and wait until after the wedding to move in together and be intimate."

Rose chokes on her drink and grabs a napkin, covering her mouth as she coughs and feeling the Doctor rub her back in gentle circles. She can't help but lean into his touch, loving the sensation of his lukewarm fingertips against her bare skin.

Jackie puts down the wineglass she was drinking from and rolls her eyes. "Yeah, quite the blushing virgin, Abby is." She nods at Rose and the Doctor. "And those two have been together for two years, mum."

Juliette leans forward a bit, hands gripping the edge of the tabletop and she bores her eyes into the Doctor's once more. "Two years?! What's wrong with you, then? Why haven't you married my granddaughter and put her in the family way?"

The Doctor's mouth falls open, and he turns to look at Rose. A smile tugs at her lips and, as she meets his eye, now sparkling with humour, she can't hold it in. They burst out laughing, leaning against each other and not caring about the perplexed looks they get from the rest of the guests at their table.

Rose pats his face. "At least she didn't pinch your cheek!"

"What just happened?" Juliette asks over the sound of their giggles.

Jackie sighs. "Oh, who knows? They're like that all the time, they are. Bloody annoying, if you ask me. Not that anyone ever do."

"Well? When can we expect another wedding?" Juliette asks.

Rose glances at the other guests, shifting a bit in her seat. "Never. We're just mates."

Juliette puts down her spoon, leaning back as she considers them. "Is this something you usually do, then, Doctor? Dressing up in a smart dinner jacket and accompanying _a mate_ to a wedding."

"Ehm… Well…" He tugs at his ear. "Well, Rose and I are– Well, we usually do this sort of thing together."

"Mhm." Juliette grabs her spoon again, pointing it at the Doctor. "Keeping my eye on you."

The rest of the dinner goes by without drama. Granted, Juliette throws a few probing questions the Doctor's way, but he spins lies with ease, and she seems to accept them all. Rose mostly listens to her mum and nan chat and tries to enjoy her food. Right now, nothing's good to her human tongue, but she can tell by the others' hums and comments that everything's delicious. Her mum praises the wine choices, happy to taste something other than the cheap bottles she can afford. Rose sticks to water, though. After spending two weeks in a state of constant horniness, without being able to masturbate once, she doesn't dare to get drunk–or even tipsy. The last thing she needs is to lose all inhibitions and jump his bones or declare her feelings.

After too many toasts to count, cake cutting, and the bridal waltz, the guests at the reception mingles and dances. The Doctor clears his throat and looks out at the crowd of people moving to the slow song, running his fingers down her arm and taking her hand. She shivers, gooseflesh spreading across her body and stomach swooping.

"Would you, ehm, are you… Did you want to dance?"

"Oh. Nah." She shakes her head and smiles, cursing on the inside as she feels her face flush, betraying her lie. She knows now that he, without any effort at all, notices even _minute_ changes in her body–anything from hormones to heart rate. Obviously, he's already aware of the effect he has on her, and she's sure she'll be over it soon but, for now, she's staying the hell away from the dance floor. "I'm still a bit tired."

"Do you want me to drive back and bring the TARDIS? It wouldn't be more than a few minutes for you."

"No, I'm fine. Don't see my nan much. I wanna stay."

"Why are you tired? I saw you napping in the church you know," Juliette says–and then she gasps, staring at Rose's waterglass. "You're pregnant!"

"What?" Rose laughs. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are! Tired, no alcohol, all cuddly with your bloke like you're newlyweds. I know the signs."

Rose grabs her mum's wineglass and empties it in two large gulps. "Not pregnant," she says, putting it down with a soft thud. She points at the Doctor. "Just mates."

"Then why were you only drinking water?"

"Uhm… I'm just a bit tired. We've been travelling, and I just wanna take it easy."

The Doctor leans closer, taking her hand again and whispering into her ear. "Are you sure you don't want me to get the TARDIS?"

"Yeah, I'm good," she says, voice coming out a bit more hoarse than she wanted.

"Are you really not together?" Juliette asks, brow knitted. "You look like you're together. He's not another Jimmy, is he? Stringing you along until he finds someone better."

"No!"

"Well, don't expect me to stand by and hold my tongue this time."

"Jimmy?" the Doctor asks.

Rose makes a dismissive hand gesture. "No one. Just my ex."

"Jimmy bloody Stone." Jackie swirls the wine around in her refilled glass before taking a mouthful. "He was a right prat, that one. He's lucky I didn't pummel him to a pulp with my rolling pin."

The Doctor clenches his jaw, dimples showing in his cheek. "What did he do?"

Rose places her hand on his arm. "Was a long time ago, all right?"

"What did he do?"

"He used her, he did. No concern for anyone but himself. Made her quit school. Put her in debt. And once he–"

"Mum, stop."

The Doctor furrows his brow, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her closer. "I'd never do that to Rose."

Jackie smiles at him. "I know you wouldn't, Doctor. You're nothing like Jimmy."

"No, I'm not," he says, fingers tightening around Rose's upper arm. He leans in closer, lowering his voice, saying, "Why haven't you… I thought I knew all the-all the important bits."

"You do. He's not important! Not anymore. Yeah, I thought he was my, uhm, my soulmate." She rolls her eyes. "I thought he was the answer to_everything_. Luckily it didn't take me seven and a half million years to realise that wasn't true."

"Hold on. That's how long it took for Deep Thought to figure out the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything."

"Yeah, forty two. Surprisingly not Jimmy Stone."

"You just referenced _The Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy_! You've read that?"

"Well, yeah. Why d'you think I never asked you who Arthur Dent was?" She tosses her head, moving a few loose strands out of her face. "Was, uhm, was Jimmy's favorite book. He talked about it all the time. Wanted to write a rock opera based on it. So I read it."

"Oh, that's…" He removes his arm from around her shoulders and rubs his neck. "You've-you've never read any of my favourite books."

"Uhm…"

Jackie smiles at them. "Oh, Doctor, she was sixteen. She'd've done anything that boy wanted."

"Mum!"

"Well, it's true." Jackie drinks the last of her wine and waves at a waiter to fill up her glass. "And it's true for a lot of sixteen year olds, sweetheart. And that's not really a good thing, is it?"

Rose ignores her mum and moves closer to the Doctor, taking his hand and talking to him in a low voice, "I can read your favourite book, if you want. As long as it's fiction, though. 'Cause I'd probably not even make it past the introduction, or first sentence, really, if it's one of those, uhm, brainy science books."

He chuckles and looks down at their hands, entwining their fingers. "Yes you would. You're brilliant. But no, you don't have to do that."

"I'd be happy to, though. I would. You've watched all my favourite films with me. Even the really bad ones. Like _Runaway Bride_. We've watched that one like three times."

He smiles. "Five."

"Oh. See? I'd–"

"Told you they're adorable, didn't I, mum?" Jackie whispers rather audibly to Juliette. "S'like this all the time, it is. Either bloody annoying, or so cute you want to vomit."

Rose drops his hand and sits up straight, glaring at her mum. She can't help but wish that there had been fewer legs under the table so she could've kicked her in the shin without risking hitting someone else. Jackie seems unperturbed and takes another sip from her wineglass.

"'Scuse me, need to use the loo. And don't talk about Jimmy when I'm gone!" Rose gives them firm looks, pointing for emphasis.

* * *

Standing in front of the wide mirror hanging over the double sink in the ladies' room, Rose touches up her makeup, and fixes a few strands that have fell loose from her updo. She wanted the Doctor to come with her, of course she did, but now she can't help but think that going without him would've been better. She finds it so hard to relax and enjoy herself when she knows he can detect any little change in her–especially when he keeps touching her! No wonder her nan and mum don't give it a rest. She sighs and takes one last look in the mirror before heading back out.

As she walks past the dance floor, her cousin Liam shows up in front of her, wide grin on his face. He wraps his arms around her and lifts her off the floor for a tight hug.

"Rose! Long time no see. "Wanna dance?"

"Uhm, no thanks. I'm not–"

"Oh, c'mon, Rose. Not seen you in ages! Don't you know that the point of these things is to talk to your relatives and have fun?"

"Oh, and here I was thinking the point was Abby getting married."

He shrugs and smiles. "Might have something to do with it. C'mon. Just a quick dance before you go back to your bloke."

"I don't–"

He gives her a pointed look. "I've not seen you in three years, Rose. We _never_ see you anymore."

She smiles. "Yeah, all right. Just one."

She lets him lead him out on the dance floor and they chat a bit as they move, talking about what they've been up to the last few years. Once the song ends, one of her uncles sweeps her into his arms and tries to tango with her. He's clumsy, and a little drunk, but it's fun and reminds her of when she was little and used to stand on his feet as they danced around in her nan's living room. He ends their number with a shallow dip, and Rose thanks him for the dance, but before she's had a chance to leave, another relative shows up and soon she's danced with three more people. When she finally is able to get away, she feels flushed and thirsty, feet tired, but happy and smiling.

She slumps down on the chair next to the Doctor. "Sorry for leaving you with mum, but–"

"Did you have fun?" he asks, tone so curt she instantly sits up straight and looks at him. His face is unreadable, eyes directed at his hands, clasped in his lap.

"Uhm, yeah."

"I thought you were tired."

She knits her brow, trying to catch his eye. "Yeah, I was. I am. Doctor?" She touches his shoulder. "Doctor, what–"

"Rose!" says Abby, suddenly standing at their table. "Can't believe you've not congratulated me yet."

Rose gets up and hugs her cousin. "Congratulations! You look gorgeous. And the ceremony was beautiful."

Abby chuckles. "Yeah? So you didn't fall asleep, then?"

Rose's cheeks heat up. "Oh. Uhm. I'm sorry! I was awake for the vows, though. And they really were lovely."

Abby laughs and gives her another hug. "It's okay. I'm married, nothing can put me in a bad mood right now. The vows are the important bit, anyway. So... What have you been up to? We never see you. Fell off the face of the Earth, you did. A whole year! And then you're back and you just...disappear again? We were all so worried about you!"

"Uhm…" Rose swallows, guilt coiling in her stomach. "Yeah. I was, uhm, I've been travelling. But I visit mum all the time."

"Yeah, that's what we've all heard. 'Travelling'. What's that mean?"

"You know, just travelling." She shrugs. "I, uhm, I'm the Doctor's assistant. He's really busy. We go all over, helping people."

"Really?" She eyes the Doctor from head to foot. "So that must make you the infamous Doctor, then?"

He shoots her a toothy grin. "Guilty."

"And that's your job, Rose? Really?" Abby smirks. "That one's assistant? And he just happen to come with you to my wedding out of the goodness of his heart, did he?"

"He's not just my, uhm, my…_boss_," she says, forcing out the last word and shooting daggers at the sniggering Doctor. "He's my best mate. And it's not just a job. It's a calling, really. The Doctor and me are gonna do it for the rest of m-our lives."

"What? You're never settling down?"

Rose shakes her head. "Can't go back. Not after all I've seen. Can't live this life, not when there's so much out there. So many people needing our help. Right, Doctor?"

He regards her for a second, brow slightly furrowed and eyes dark. His Adam's apple bobs and he blinks, smiling again. "Right. Saving the world, Rose and I. Little by little. It's a job that never ends. Now, you'll have to excuse me. These old legs have been still for too long." He nods at them and leaves.

"Mum?" Rose asks, following the Doctor with her eyes, fidgeting with her necklace. "Is the Doctor all right? Did you say something to him?"

"Oh, he's just jealous. Told him he's got nothing to worry about, I did. That all of them blokes you danced with are uncles and cousins and the like. Think he felt snubbed either way."

"Indeed." Juliette nods. "That's a jealous man, if I ever saw one."

"No, he's not. Don't be daft. He's just worried about me 'cause I said I was tired. You know what he's like, mum. He just doesn't want me to collapse again."

"Collapse?" Juliette says, hand at her chest.

"Oh...was nothing. Was just the, uhm, the flu. Yeah. Was down all week. I'm still a bit knackered." She sits down, tired smile on her lips, grabbing her water glass to quench her thirst.

Abby takes one of the next seats next to her. "He's really fit, though, that Doctor. Are you two...?"

"God. Can you lot give it a rest already? You're driving me mental! Have you never heard of two people being mates before?"

"Well, Liam saw him lick your wrist. Mates don't lick each other's wrists."

Rose feels a bit flushed, shifting in her seat. "That was… He's just peculiar. Right, mum? You tell 'em. He's really weird."

Jackie chortles. "Weird? He's completely bonkers!"

"Maybe it's just his way of showing, you know, that he fancies you?" Abby says.

Rose sighs and considers the others for a moment. The small knot of guilt in her stomach tightens further as she thinks about who she was to them once, and who she's become. Someone who lies, never opens up about anything, pushes people away, leaving them behind.

"Look. The Doctor's the most brilliant man I know. He's… He sees things–_knows_ things–normal people don't. He knows he…" She worries her lip, averting her eyes. "He knows, all right? He knows he could just snap his fingers and…" She huffs and shakes her head. "He won't, though. Don't know if he doesn't want to, or just can't 'cause of some stupid rules. Doesn't really matter. Still my best mate. Still my…" She shrugs. "We're happy. That's all that matters, yeah?"

Her mum reaches over the table and squeezes her hand. "Rose–"

"No. I don't want to wallow. It is what it is. C'mon, Abby." She flashes her a smile. "Think it's customary to dance with the bride, innit?"

* * *

Jackie dances with a few blokes, but mostly she's enjoying the posh wine and gossiping with relatives she's not seen in a while. Her daughter is still on the dance floor with her cousins, whilst the Doctor is nowhere to be seen. When he finally appears again, she reckons it must've been an hour, at least. He bounds up to their table, grin spread from one ear to the other.

"Well, don't you look like the cat who ate the canary."

He giggles, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Let's just say I witnessed something that will win me a bet. Where's Rose?"

Jackie nods at the dance floor and his face falls for a second before the manic grin is in place once more.

"I'll just wait, then."

"Doctor…" Jackie gives him an encouraging smile. "She wants to know. Just tell her, yeah?"

His forehead creases and his hand fly up to his hair, running his fingers through it as his eyes drift over to the dance floor.

"Go on." She makes a shooing motion with her hands and smiles as he shoves his hands into his pockets, sauntering over to Rose.

Daylight is long since gone, but the dance floor lit by a few chandeliers, and the light coming from the candles placed on tables and window sills. Jackie props up her elbow on the table and rests her chin in her hand, watching the Doctor tap Rose on the shoulder. She spins around and he places his hands on her arms. She smiles at him and he leans closer, whispering something in her ear. Her mouth falls open, eyes dancing as she listens, and then she bursts out laughing, leaning her forehead against him as her body heaves with giggles. The Doctor takes her hand and places it on his shoulder, putting his on her waist, and then clasps her right in his left. Her brow furrows for a second, but a smile tugs on her lips and she lets herself be led into a waltz.

Although Rose is smiling and laughing, it's clear to Jackie that her daughter is keeping her distance, never quite relaxing. She shakes her head and grabs her glass of wine, sipping and keeping an eye on them, listening with one ear to her mum's conversation with her brother. Two dances later, the music changes into a mellow, romantic classic. Most of the couples on the dance floor shift poses, coming closer, but Rose moves away from the Doctor. Jackie is just about to mutter some creative curses under her breath when she sees him reel Rose in. His hands move to her back, splayed just above her midriff; her hands rest on his shoulders, her cheek against his chest. They move slowly in circles; she's beaming, he wears a faint smile, both have their eyes closed. Jackie feels a soft, warm sensation spreading within her, bringing tears to her eyes.

She nudges Juliette with her elbow and nods at the couple, patting the corner of her eyes with a napkin. "Look at them. Lord knows I didn't like him when she first brought him home, but they're perfect together, they are. Oh, I can't for the life of me understand why they fight it, mum."

"We're a stubborn lot, sweetheart, but if that's the way they act around each other, it's really just a question of time, innit?"

"Oh, I hope so." Jackie takes a sip of her wine. "Sometimes I feel like I should say something, but I know Rose doesn't want me to meddle. I would've, once... But she's changed so much, and it's hard, mum. I just want my little girl to be happy!"

They watch them together and lets out happy sighs, whispering about how they're the sweetest couple on the dance floor, including the newlyweds. When the song ends and Rose and the Doctor head toward them, they quickly pretend to be deep in conversation, plastering smiles on their faces.

"Hello, Rose. Having fun?" Jackie asks.

"Yeah, but I'm really knackered so we're heading home. Are you coming with us?"

"No, no. You go on ahead, sweetheart. I'll get a lift from someone."

"You sure?"

"Yes! I'm having a ball."

"I can always come back in the, ehm, the…" The Doctor looks at the other people at the table. "My other vehicle. And pick you up later. If you ring."

"No. Absolutely not. Don't think about me. Go home and get to bed. Both of you."

After saying their goodbyes and hugging everyone in sight, Rose and the Doctor head toward the door, hand in hand.

Watching them leave, Jackie sighs and mutters to herself, "If nothing happens tonight, I swear to god I'm locking them inside a room with nothing but vodka and a bed for entertainment."

* * *

**Beta**: resile  
**Note**: I dedicate this to someone (who probably are not reading this, but whatever haha) who once joked that I should end all my fics with a wedding. Not that this is the end, but it's pretty damn close.


	7. Threshold

**Warning**: This chapter contains teh sex. I've edited out the worst of it (or best, I suppose ;) ). For those who want the graphic smut, this fic is up on teaspoon/whofic, ao3, and my tumblr.

**beta**: resile

* * *

.

* * *

Dark, heavy clouds rolled in over the sky sometime during the evening, concealing the moon and stars from view. The Doctor tells Rose it will start to rain any minute and shrugs off his jacket, draping it around her shoulders to stave off the chill of the raw night air. They've just left the parking lot when the sky opens up and proves him right. The car has yet to warm up so she uses his jacket as a blanket, snuggling up under it and pulling it all the way to her nose. The collar smells of him and his shaving products, and she breathes in deeply, stifling a content hum as she exhales.

"So what—" She lets out a long yawn. "What do I owe you?"

"For the bet?"

"Yeah. Can't believe she did that! Against the wall? Really?"

"Yep."

"Wow… Her poor husband. Or, I suppose… Don't know what's going on behind closed doors. Maybe she needed it."

"Maybe."

"So, what do I owe you, then? Am I to massage your feet, _boss_?"

"Weeelll…" He smiles. "That sounds brilliant. Or maybe my scalp. I do love a good scalp massage. Very good for the hair follicles, you know. Or…" He makes a happy sound in his throat. "Or you could shave me. You seemed to enjoy it quite a bit."

"Oh, my god! You did _not_ just say that!"

"Didn't I? Are you sure, Rose? Sounded like I did."

"You're lucky you're driving, 'cause I'm this close to slapping you!" she says, holding up her index finger and thumb, pad to pad.

"No you're not. You'd never slap me."

"Doctor, you're _not_ allowed to tease me about that."

"No? That's a shame. I have so many jokes planned..."

"Yeah? Well too bad for you. Besides, it's your bloody body. Not my fault it's so sensitive. I wouldn't get aroused by something like that. Not in my own body."

He chuckles. "You sure about that?"

A wave of shame washes through her, leaving her cheeks and ears burning. She holds up her fingers again. "This close!"

He stays quiet, eyes on the road, but there's a small smirk playing on his lips.

"I'm just, you know, uhm…" She wraps the jacket tighter around herself. "Well, it's been a while for me, all right?"

"Oh? How long?"

"What?! That's none of your business. How'd you like it if I asked you?"

She folds her arms under his jacket and shoots him a look full of attitude, eyebrows raised and lips pursed.

"Couple of centuries, I reckon."

Her jaw drops and she can't help but stare at him for a couple of seconds, but then she snorts. "You really are a monk, then."

"Not really."

Not knowing what to say to that, she rests her head against the water dotted window, watching the landscape rush past, blinking every few seconds at the light of the streetlamps. The pitter-patter of rain hitting the roof and windshield fills their not entirely companionable silence, and soon her eyes drift shut and she falls asleep.

* * *

.

* * *

Rose comes to from the sounds of whispers and a door closing. Feeling slightly disoriented, she flutters her eyes open and finds herself staring into the wall in the hallway of her mum's flat. She's cradled in the Doctor's arms, head resting against his shoulder. Her face is wet, and so is his, but her body feels pretty dry and she realises he's managed to drape his jacket over her.

"Did you just carry me over the threshold?" She grins, tongue poking out between her teeth.

"Yeah, I did, yeah," he says, pushing the door open to her bedroom with his foot.

"Why?"

He takes a deep breath, exhaling as he says, "Because you were sleeping."

"You could've woken me up."

"Yes, I could've."

She laughs. "You can put me down now, though. Thanks." She leans against the TARDIS, which takes up most of the free space in her tiny room, whilst he finds the key to unlock the door. "How did you manage all that, anyway?"

"Met a friendly neighbour. Ehm, a Mrs. Paulson. Just came back from walking her dog. She helped me hold up the doors," he says with a wink, holding the door open for her.

"She must've wondered, though."

"Nah." He grabs her hand, entwining their fingers as they walk past the console. "Saw the clothes. Knew about the wedding. Recognised me, even. So, she asked if we'd have fun and—"

"_Did_ you have fun?"

"Well, I've had worse Saturdays."

"Yeah. Thanks-thanks for coming. I had fun. Knackered, though."

"Mm. Me too. Wouldn't advise anyone to go to a wedding straight after a bodyswap."

"Yeah."

Just like any other night, they follow the routine established toward the end of their first week in one another's bodies. They walk to his room and pick out a fresh pair of jimjams each, but this time Rose is the one taking longer in the bathroom and, when she comes out again, the Doctor is the one already lying in bed, reading. The covers on her side are turned down, and she crawls into bed beside him, curling up on her side with a yawn, back to him so they can spoon. She hums, burrowing deeper into her pillow and breathing in the lingering Doctor scent. This really is the most comfortable bed she's ever lain in and, for some reason, it's even more so in her human body. She stiffens. Her _human_ body.

Her mouth falls open in surprise and her eyes dance around the still light room as she tries to make sense of it. Has he, just as she, acted out of habit without a second thought? Or does he _want_ her in his bed? She must admit that this platonic sleeping of theirs has been more than lovely and something she'd be happy to keep up. Considering how he teased her in the car about her sex drive he, at least, has no problems with it. She finds it so strange, though, since she could barely function around that smell—and she's had a hard time letting go of that thought, of what that might mean.

She hears him close the book, putting it and his glasses on the nightstand as the lights turn down low. He shifts in the bed and then she feels his arm across her waist, pulling her closer. When he was in her body, he used to nuzzle his face in between her shoulder blades and rest his hand over her hearts; however, now he burrows his nose into the nape of her neck and takes her hand in his, avoiding her chest. A shiver runs from the top of her head, down her back, and all the way to her heels.

"Is this, ehm… Are you okay— Well. How are you feeling?"

"Tired. A little weird," she says, toying with his fingers. "Uhm… Like, at first I was so stressed so I didn't much notice the difference, but in the church, yeah, it felt… Was like I was wrapped in cotton or something. Everything was dull. But it felt better after my kip."

"Good." He hugs her closer. "And, ehm, and now?"

"Just tired. Relieved, I suppose. Dunno, it's good to be back, right, but I know I'm gonna miss some things. Like the strength and stamina. I'm gonna be so sore tomorrow after all that dancing, but you won't, will you?"

"No."

"And all those senses. Gonna miss those as well. The food was kinda bland, but by the time we had the cake it started feeling a bit better, so I suppose I'll be fine soon. Dunno. I'm gonna miss a lot of things, but there are a-a few things I, uhm, I'm glad are gone."

"Yeah? Like what?"

She snorts, resisting the urge to wiggle her bum against his absent erection to make her point. "What do you think?"

"Oh… Right. Yes. That must've been—"

"Don't say it!" She laughs. "You had your go in the car."

"I won't. I'm not _that_ rude. But please, let me at least tell you that you did rise to the occasion, Rose. A lesser person would've been stiff with fear. Not you, though. No, _you_ went to great lengths to face every hardship, although relief was nowhere in sight. I feel like these experiences really made you grow, and I'm glad it didn't cockup our friendship. Been a shame if it had erected walls between us, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh, my god. Are you done?" she says through her giggles, feeling his chest move against her back as he laughs with her. "You know what, though? I'm happy we went through that, 'cause… Dunno. Feel like we know each other better now, yeah? Like, I already knew you were my best mate, right, but we're even closer now, even better mates. Don't you reckon?"

He breathes in and rolls over on his back, exhaling. "I do."

"M'sorry, did you want to sleep?"

"No, no. I can talk."

Although it's dark, her eyes have adjusted to the lack of light and she rolls over as well, onto her side so she can see him as she talks. He has his arms crossed under his head and he's staring up at the ceiling, covers pulled up to his waist.

"You sure?" she asks.

"Yep."

"'Kay… I, uhm, I never knew what you had to put up with. The patience you must—"

He lifts his head and looks at her, eyebrows nearly touching his hairline. "What I have to put up with. Most days you exert yourself to the point where you have to tend to your blistered feet, and take an hour long hot bath to soothe your sore body—and never complaining, at that—and you're worried about _me_ having to put up with _you_?"

"Well, yeah. Like slowing down your whole way of life so I can keep up with you. Watching films with me in the media room when you must be bursting with energy. Having to wait for me when I sleep. Coming with me to mum for visits. Oh, and eating her cooking. Can't be fun with those tastebuds."

He chuckles, resting his head on the pillow again.

"And uhm… Having to put up with, uhm, with the, uhm, the sounds and smells. _All_ the smells." She swallows and runs her tongue over her top lip, holding her breath as she looks at him. "I know you said you don't 'pay heed' to it but, Doctor, I don't understand how you can stand it. You always say that everything's about sex with us humans—and it is! Well, you-you…" Ignoring her burning cheeks, she trots on. "I have a, uhm, a-a… As I told you in the car, right, it's been a while for me. And I have a healthy sex drive!" she says, wincing a bit at how forcefully it came out. "And I can't have been the only one. And I know how-how it smells to you, now. How distracting it must be. And yet you travel with us, this horny little lot…" She grabs his arm. "Oh, my god! Jack! What was it like when Jack was on board? Didn't he talk about some really strong 51st century pheromones? And he wanted sex _all the time_, he did! Must have driven you spare!"

His face splits into a crooked grin. "I'm used to it, Rose. It's normal to me. I smell it all the time, on everyone. It's like… Well, it might not be the best analogy, but if you see a naked man, you don't get… It doesn't affect you, does it?"

"No," she says with a laugh. "Not unless I fancy him." Her smile fades and her eyes drift down, staring at the buttons of his pinstriped pyjama shirt. She swallows and presses her lips together before tapping him on the arm, grin plastered on her face. "Ha! We're so daft. We both forgot you don't need me during the nights anymore. I, uhm, I'll just…" She nods at the wall, not the slightest bit surprised to see a door popping up in it. "Night, Doctor."

* * *

.

* * *

Rose uses her budding telepathic abilities and asks the TARDIS to turn on the tap of the round marble tub in the back of her en suite. Waiting for the polished basin to be filled, she sits on the broad, rough edge, staring into nothing and thinking about things she thought she had accepted a long time ago. Hope is such a silly little thing. Oh, well, it's gone now. She just needs a bath and a good night's sleep and she'll be good as new.

She closes her eyes and listens to the roaring sound of water rushing out of the tap, feeling the vibrations carry from the basin out to the edge and into her palms and her bum and… Oh.

"Oh, come on," she says and rolls her eyes.

She remembers hearing about sexually frustrated housewives from the sixties, sitting on washing machines. Back then she laughed at that, and now… Now she rubs her thighs together before spreading them and shifting forward, putting her weight in a way that brings her closer to the unevenly cut surface. Her moans are drowned out by the water as she dips her hand inside her pyjama bottoms. Gripping the edge tightly with her other hand, she begins to stroke herself in tight, little circles.

Her body starts responding, clenching around nothing, and she needs more and changes her plans. There's a vibrator in her nightstand that will help her relax just as well as a bath. She turns off the tap and sticks her fingers into her mouth, sucking on them as she walks out of the en suite.

She bites back a yelp and quickly hides her hand behind her back when she sees the Doctor waiting on her bed, both feet on the floor and elbows resting on his thighs.

"I thought I was being rather obvious," he says, looking in front of him rather than at her.

She gasps out something akin to a 'what?', wiping her fingers on the back of her shirt. He knows, of course. There's no way he doesn't—not when she's this horny and her fingers surely still smell like sex.

"Today," he says. "I thought I was being rather obvious. What with how I acted, and all."

She shakes her head, fogged up by arousal and confusion. "Huh?"

He smiles. "Suppose not. I'll have to be more blunt, then."

"Blunt? About what?"

"What I want."

She sucks in a sharp breath, feeling her stomach flip. "And wha—" Her voice breaks, throat and mouth suddenly dry. She licks her lips and swallows, frozen to the spot. "What do you want?"

He turns to look at her, eyes dark and hungry, piercing through her. Her mouth falls open; she can't do anything than wait, heart pounding in her chest. In a few swift movements he's in front of her, hands gripping her arms, pushing her up against the door. She gasps and his lips crash against hers, eager and without any finesse, impatience fuelling his every action. He runs his hands up her arms and shoulders, soon cupping her cheeks, long fingers splayed over her skin. He tilts her head back and nips at her bottom lip, just on the edge of too hard, tugging her mouth open. She whimpers with pleasure, welcoming him in and melting in his arms with every swipe of his tongue, his tea-and-buttered-toast taste taking over her tastebuds.

Rocking her hips forward, she grinds against him. His breath hitches and he presses back, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of her pyjama bottoms, brushing against her hipbones and sending shocks of pleasure to her center. Somewhere in the back of her mind, there's still a glimmer of sense that tells her that their first time shouldn't be shagging against her loo door. So, she steers him towards the bed, hands pushing against his chest; they stumble together, tugging, shimmying and kicking to get out of their pyjama bottoms. She's not sure if they've succeeded once they fall into the soft sea of pillows and covers, but all she can focus on is the feeling of him hard against her stomach.

Lips still connected, she shifts to straddle him and lifts up her lower body, fumbling a hand down between them as his settles on her hips. She lines him up and he pushes her down, her sigh of relief mingling with his long, muffled moan. Aching for friction, she starts to move, but his fingers dig into her hips, holding her in place.

"Wait."

"Doctor, please," she says, squirming on top of him. "I need-I need—"

He moves one hand to where they are joined, touching her. She cries out and sits up, eyes rolling back in her head and thanking him and please and _yes_. He feels _so good_ inside her; her muscles clench and he breathes out a '_fuck_', hissing as she does it again. Releasing her hip, he bunches up her pyjama shirt over her chest and cranes his neck, taking her puckered nipple into his mouth. She scrambles after one of her decorative pillows and shoves it under his head, helping him keep his mouth on her breast. Moving her hips back and forth, she feels him buck up to meet her.

She smiles at that, taking it as a sign that he's ready, and she begins to ride him, focused on every little sensation: their scents mingling, hair gel, perfumes, sweat, and sex; his fingers playing, and tongue swirling; his lean body between her thighs; the cool sheets bunched up in her hands, placed on either side of his head. The tingling in her center heightens until she's so desperate for release, she can't do anything but grind hard against him—and then she falls, curling up and tensing. Her body convulses with pleasure, warmth spreading through her limbs.

She collapses on him, clinging to his body and moving with him so he can reach his peak. He grips her hips, both of them now, fingers pushing into her flesh. She burrows her face in the crook of his neck, nipping at his skin, tasting it with her tongue, sucking until she's sure there must be marks. Only a few strokes later, he pants out his climax and they rock together until they're sated and limp.

She treats his bruised skin with lazy kisses, catching her breath and shivering as his hands draw circles on her back, under her shirt. Now that she's down from her high, she feels her pyjama bottoms still tangled around one foot and how his are bunched up at his knees. Looking up, she notices that they're lying diagonally on the bed, his head in one corner of the foot side, and she begins to giggle.

"That's not… Well, that's not the reaction I was hoping for. 'You're an adonis, Doctor,' or 'Best sex of my life, Doctor,' or, you know, just an incoherent string of mumbled words about my prowess. Ah, yes, let's go with that one." He waggles his eyebrows, grinning.

"No, it's…" She laughs and pushes herself up, hands splayed over his chest, straddling his hips and scrunching up her nose when she feels the rapidly cooling wetness between them. He looks at her, wide-eyed and a bit guarded, lips swollen and cheeks flushed. She smiles, tongue-touched and tender. "Can't believe I stayed sober tonight just 'cause i didn't want to risk throwing myself at you and making a fool of myself. But I guess that was what you wanted all along, huh?"

He beams at her. "Well, would it have hurt you to catch on a bit sooner? You're usually not this thick, Rose."

"I didn't think you wanted me!"

He knits his brow and shakes his head. "How could you think that I didn't want you?"

"How could I not? You've smelled me all this time. You must've known how much I—" She bites her lip, blushing. "And you! You're always completely unaffected. Even in my body."

"Oh, well…" He grins, tongue touching the roof of his mouth, eyes averted. "I learned how to control that pretty quickly. Know my way around a brain, you know. Was only when I slept that I couldn't."

"What?! Oh, you git!" Attacking his side with her hands, she starts tickling him, reducing him to a giggling, writhing mess beneath her. "I was so _humiliated_. I was hard all the bloody time, and I couldn't even wank—"

"You never masturbated?"

"No! I didn't want to touch your body like that unless you were in it. It just felt _wrong_! All I could think about was how much I wanted to suck your cock!"

His jaw drops and he lets out a surprised guffaw.

"Uhm… Too forward?"

He chuckles. "Definitely not."

She gasps. "Oh, god!"

"What? What?" He stares at her, wide-eyed. "Was that the wrong answer?"

"We didn't use protection!"

"Oh, that." He smiles, relaxing. "You're not ovulating, for one, and I doubt we're compatible. I'll run some tests tomorrow."

"Oh, good. So…" She licks her lips and grins at him. "Wanna take this into the shower? We're all sticky."

He shoots her a wicked smile. "Oh, yes!"

Letting him chase after her into the en suite, they shrug off the rest of their clothing. The water is already running as they enter the stall, and he traps her between his body and the coral wall, leaning on his hands on either side of her. Beaming at him, she cups his cheeks and brings his mouth to hers. The hunger has subsided; they use more lips than tongue, tenderness rather than ravenous frenzy. He wraps his arms around her, pressing her close to his body; she links hers around his neck, swaying with him under the warm shower spray.

"Wash each other? I want to...explore. Now that we can," he says, ghosting his hands down her back and cupping her bum. Biting her lip, she smiles and nods.

He grabs her jasmine scented shampoo bar—a wonderful hair-and-body soap she picked up in a 48th century mall—and works up a fluffy lather, massaging it into her hair, gentle fingers rubbing her scalp and running down her neck. He covers her shoulders, back, and bum before turning her around and taking care of her front, her legs, and feet. Standing up again, he smiles at her and hands her the bar. She smiles back and returns the favour, loving the feeling of his soft skin under her hands.

Breathing through her mouth, tongue running over her teeth, she takes in his body, now as rinsed and clean as hers. He's covered by a myriad of paths created by water drops, trails she wants to follow with her mouth, tongue, and teeth.

"Are you, uhm, ready for more?" she asks, running the tip of her fingers from his hipbone to his chest.

"Mm…"

Circling his nipple until it hardens, she moves her lips from his jaw, down his neck, over his collarbones and chest. She wraps her lips around the puckered bud, sucking gently as her right hand treats the other. Her free hand wanders down, finding him well on his way to an erection. The floor feels hard under her feet and she wants to take her time so, to protect her knees, she reaches out of the stall to the rack and grabs one of the fluffy towels. She drops it in front of her and kneels down before him, brushing her lips over his length. She rakes her nails up his thighs and back to his bum, gripping his buttocks and pushing him closer as she opens up and takes him in.

She keeps one hand on his arse, teasing his skin with her nails and feeling him shiver as gooseflesh spreads over his body. He leans back against the wall with a groan and she shuffles forward, dragging the towel with her under her knees as she moves, lips still wrapped around him. She picks up the pace, looking up at him through her lashes.

"Was this what you had in mind?" She swirls her tongue around him; he stares at her, mouth open and eyes dark, looking almost disbelieving. "When you made that bet, and knew I would lose…" she says, hand working in a steady rhythm.

When he doesn't answer, she giggles and then takes in as much as she can, eyes still connected with his. The sound of his moans deepens the desire coiling within her. Her rhythm starts out slow, but when he gingerly touches her head and thrusts forward the slightest bit, as though he's trying to hold back but is desperate for more, she follows her instinct. Quickening her tempo, she listens with pride to his laboured breath and then the throaty moan he emits when he climaxes. She keeps him in her mouth until he softens on her tongue and shies away with a squeaky noise.

"Sensitive," he says, grinning. "My turn?"

She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, anticipation coiling in her stomach. She nods and he pulls her up on her feet, holding her steady for a moment as her blood pressure drops and she feels woozy.

"You all right?"

"Yeah. Definitely," she says, smiling and leaning back against the wall.

He treats her body as she did his, running his tongue along the trails of water over her body, rolling her nipples between his teeth, kissing her abdomen, reaching her curls. He lifts her leg over his shoulder and watches his fingers as he begins to touch her; she watches him, panting and licking her lips at the sensation as well as his intense focus. When he goes down on her, she cries out and thrusts her hips forward, gripping at the rough floor with her toes to keep herself steady. He hums as he pleasures her and she rocks her hips against him, one hand on his head but, as much as she wants this, _needs_ this, she's too tired to trust her legs.

"I think-I think I need to lie down for this," she says. He chuckles against her and she gives him a soft whack over the head. "My legs are tired, you smug git."

He springs up and scoops her up in his arms. "Why didn't you say so, my fair lady? I shall carry you to bed!"

"Well do that, instead of standing here and yapping. You've got me all worked up!"

"Your wish is my command!"

He rushes out to the bedroom again and puts her down on the bed before jumping in and making himself comfortable between her thighs. She spreads her legs further and arches into him as he descends his mouth on her. He slowly builds her orgasm until she's so close all she can hear is a long string of moans in the back of her throat. She nestles her fingers into his hair, pressing him just a little bit closer and craning her neck to look at him. A swooping feeling fills her stomach from the vision of his dark eyes meeting hers, his face buried between her legs.

The sensation deepens, grows hotter and more intense, radiating from her core, throughout her body. They keep eye contact when she tumbles over the edge, her lips sinking into her bottom lip, her hands gripping the duvet under her as her body spasms. He keeps his mouth on her until she's completely relaxed and then he kisses the inside of both of her thighs before moving up her body and brushing her lips with his.

He curls up beside her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer. They lie for a bit, snuggled up and kissing, taking their moment to bask in what just happened.

"My bed's all wet," she says, ghosting her fingers up and down his arm.

"Mm. Let's sleep in mine."

She gets up on her feet and starts picking up their pyjamas, bundling them up in her arms and heading towards the door to his room.

"Really, Rose? Jimjams? Is that needed now?"

"Uhm…" She beams and drops the clothes on the floor. "Suppose not?"

He takes her hand. "Nope. I prefer my Rose Tyler naked."

"Is that so?"

"Yep. Come to think of it," he says, crawling into bed and opening his arms so she can cuddle up in his embrace. "I think we should start having naked Sundays on the TARDIS."

"You hate Sundays."

"Oh, I do. But this way, they'd become my favourite day of the week. Naked Rose Tyler in bed, naked Rose Tyler at breakfast, naked Rose Tyler in the library, naked Rose—"

She pats him on the chest. "I think I get it."

"Knew you would. You're brilliant."

"Yep!" She gives him a kiss. "Night, Doctor."

"Nuh-night, naked Rose Tyler."

* * *

.

* * *

Reinvigorated after a good night's sleep, a lazy morning shag, and another shower together, Rose and the Doctor walk to the console room hand-in-hand. They talk about her telepathic abilities and relationship with the TARDIS, and she shows off by turning on and off the lights in the corridor. He beams at her and nuzzles her cheek; she giggles and nudges his shoulder.

"So, Doctor… Ready for breakfast with my mum? You know she's gonna ask."

"Well…" He yanks at his ear. "At least we know what to call me now."

"We do?"

"Well, yeah. I'm your...ehm… Eeeer…" He scrunches up his face. "Not too fond of your human terms, to be honest. I'm just yours. That sums it up quite nicely, I gather."

"All right." She smiles, walking through the door he holds up for her. "That's good enough for me."

He moves toward her bedroom door and turns the knob, rattling it. "Huh. This is locked. D'you think your mother brought home someone last night?"

"Wouldn't put it past her."

"She does know that I've got the sonic, right?" he says, pulling it out of his pocket.

"Maybe she was pissed," she says, looking around the room as he unlocks the door. "Oh." She chuckles and pats him on the arm. "Oh, she was definitely pissed. Look at that."

She points at the bed, which is covered with petals—suspiciously similar to the pale pink roses from the flower arrangements at Abby's wedding—a couple of bottles of vodka, a box of condoms, and a handwritten note.

_"Won't unlock door until you've shagged. Use the bloody condoms. Good luck. Love, mum."_

* * *

**THE END**

* * *

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing this story. It's been a blast! I was so apprehensive about this one, and people enjoying it was a great surprise. It's been so much fun to write, and I feel so blessed that you liked it. Extra thanks to resile and nonlinearmusing for their fantastic beta skills, and a shout out to Callistawolf for reading chapter 1 and telling me to keep going.


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